Nobody Can See Me Crying
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: While out running, Tim saves a young girl from a killer and finds himself in danger as well. Tim-centered casefile. Nineteen chapters. Now complete
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story resulted from something different. I asked a good friend of mine from the NFA, McMhuirich, to make me a banner with the understanding that I'd write a story that reflected the elements of the banner. I wish I could include the banner here so that you could all see it, but doesn't allow it. The story and title came from the banner. This story was a challenge to write, but one I appreciated. I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of NCIS and I'm not making money off this story.

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><p><strong>Nobody Can See Me Crying<br>**by Enthusiastic Fish

**Chapter 1**

"Okay, Jethro, you stay in, then," Tim said to his dog. His words weren't very serious. Jethro had become ill, prompting a visit to the vet...prompting Tim to have to force Jethro to choke down pills twice a day. It was unpleasant for both of them, and Tim would be glad when Jethro was better.

He looked out the window and actually hesitated himself. It was getting pretty cloudy and threatening. They'd been suffering from a heat wave the last few days. Nighttime lows weren't low at all...near 80 degrees, and the daytime highs, coupled with the humidity made him wonder when DC had turned into a tropical jungle. The result was that he'd avoided running. Today was the first day that had looked like a tolerable temperature.

"I need to run. I've been so lazy the last few days," he said to himself. "A little rain won't hurt."

Tim nodded, having convinced himself. He pulled on his running clothes, pet Jethro who licked at his face, and then headed out the door. When he started running, he decided to try a new route. He liked running in Rock Creek Park the best, but he always liked trying to find new ways to get there. He made a random turn on his way and headed toward the park.

The first drops of rain hit him halfway through his run. He looked up at the darkening skies and sighed. If the rain actually began, it was going to be heavy, he figured.

...and ten minutes later proved him right. Before he'd even reached the boundaries of Rock Creek Park, the heavens opened and rain poured down on him in torrents. This was a typical summer storm. Heavy...and long-lasting. He knew he was going to be soaked long before he reached home...and he couldn't wait for it to stop. He didn't have time for that.

Instead, Tim put his head down and started running again. He was getting tired though. The wind had come up, and the route he'd chosen was longer than he expected it to be. He slowed down as he reached a block of apartment buildings. He slowed to a walk as the thunder rolled above his head. He grimaced. The storm was _definitely_ not ending soon. This was not just a little rain.

"My fault for trying to be healthy," he said to himself with a slight grin.

Then, he heard something...almost like popping sound. He stopped. He knew what the sound was, but he couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

More popping and he straightened. No mistaking it. Someone was firing a gun. Tim automatically reached for his gun...that wasn't there. He didn't wear it when he went running.

Before he could decide what to do, he heard a scream from the building opposite him. Suddenly, a little girl climbed out of a window on the third floor of the building and began running up the fire escape...still screaming for help. When a man climbed out the window and started following her, Tim didn't even hesitate. He ran at top speed to the fire escape, clambering up the stairs as fast as he could, not knowing what he was going to do when he got up there, but knowing he couldn't leave a little girl at the mercy of an unknown man. Not after hearing those gunshots.

By the time he got to the roof (after climbing six floors worth of stairs), he was exhausted but his adrenaline was pumping. He couldn't see the man _or_ the girl. Throwing caution to the winds, he shouted out.

"Federal agent! Drop your weapon!"

As he'd hoped, that got a reaction and he saw movement. He ran toward it, trying to keep under some cover...so that it wasn't obvious that he was completely unarmed.

"Drop your weapon!" he called out again.

More movement. This time, as Tim came around a small shed-like structure, he found the man. ...because the man punched him as hard he could, right in the gut. Tim dropped to the ground, groaning, struggling to breathe. He'd had the wind knocked out of him. He thought for sure the man was going to kill him, but instead, he stepped over Tim's supine body and ran back to the fire escape.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually, Tim found he could breathe again. He groaned and rolled over onto his hands and knees, taking as deep a breath as his body would allow. Then, he saw a pair of feet, bare feet. Little feet.

He looked up and saw a little girl, perhaps eight or nine, looking at him, her expression absolutely terrified. She looked like she was dressed in her pajamas and she was shaking in the storm. Tim pushed himself upright and she backed up a few steps.

"Hi," he said gently. "My name is Tim. I'm a federal agent."

She stared at him, trembling...from cold or fear, Tim didn't know. He knew that he himself was _not_ cold, but he was feeling the aftereffects of his rather rash actions.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded jerkily.

"What's your name?"

She wrapped her arms around herself and shook.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I want help you. Okay?"

"Aimee..." she whispered.

"That's a nice name," Tim said. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but she looked so afraid, that he didn't want to push it.

"It...means...'beloved'. My...my dad..." Her eyes filled with tears, although he couldn't see them on her cheeks. Once they spilled over, they were hidden by the rain still pouring down.

"Aimee, will you let me help you?"

She nodded.

"Okay. Can you show me where you came from? Was it your home?"

She nodded.

Tim got to his feet and she started a little bit, but when he held out his hand to her, she looked up at him for a moment and then ran over to him and wound her skinny arms around his waist. She buried her face in his jacket and he could feel her shaking. He put a protecting hand on her back and led her back to the fire escape.

"It's all right." He stopped right before they started down the steps. "Aimee?"

She looked up at him.

"Is there something bad that we'll see in your home?"

She nodded.

"Okay. I'm going to stay right with you. No matter what. I'll keep you safe, understand?"

Her arms tightened around him and she nodded.

"Good. Let's go." He hoped someone had called the police already, but in case this turned into an instance when everyone became temporarily deaf, he needed to get to a phone...and he really would like to get out of the rain. There was not an inch of him that was dry...and his stomach ached from the blow he'd been dealt.

Together, they went down the metal steps. Aimee hesitated and then led him through the window into a small kitchen. Tim looked around. He saw a broken glass on the floor, orange juice puddling around it. A broken plate with toast was on the floor along with it. Aimee's arms tightened still more around Tim.

"Okay, Aimee," he said. "You don't have to go and look. You can stay right here."

"No," she whispered, locking her arms around him.

"All right. You don't want to see, though, do you?"

She shook her head.

"Okay. Keep your eyes closed and I'll lead you. Just hang on to me, and I'll look. Then, we're going to call for the police and we'll see what we can do."

No response, except that she closed her eyes tightly. Tim took a few cautious steps forward, hoping that he wasn't walking into another dangerous situation.

...but no. The living room was empty...of living persons at least. Two bodies were on the floor, and Tim was positive they were both dead. A man and a woman. Aimee's parents, he figured.

"Aimee, I'm going to walk forward and then kneel on the ground. Just keep your eyes closed."

No response. Tim walked forward.

"Now, I'm kneeling down."

She knelt with him. Tim checked for a pulse. Nothing. He had expected that, but it was still a blow to know that this little girl was now an orphan. He assumed anyway.

"I'm going to stand back up, Aimee."

She stood with him and he walked back to the kitchen. There was a phone on the wall. He knew that he'd be contaminating part of the crime scene, but he had to call for help. He dialed 911.

"Hello, this is Special Agent Timothy McGee with NCIS. I'd like to report a double homicide. One survivor."

"_What is the address?"_

Tim gave the address.

"_We've already received two reports of shots fired at that address."_

"That would explain what I'm seeing. I heard the shots while I was out running. I'm here with the survivor, a little girl by the name of Aimee. Aimee, how old are you?"

"Ten," she whispered, her eyes still closed.

"Ten years old. She's a witness."

"_I understand, Agent McGee. I'll pass along your information."_

"Thank you. I'll stay here until the police come." Tim hung up and led Aimee to the small table. He could probably go out the door, but he didn't want to step anymore than he already had. He could already hear Gibbs and Ducky berating him for contaminating the crime scene. "Okay, Aimee. We're going stay right here until the police come. All right?"

"Okay."

"Tell me about yourself."

It was clear where her mind was right now.

"Daddy just got home. He was gone...and..."

"Where was he?"

"He was on the _Enterprise_. We went and saw the ship last week."

A sailor.

"Your dad was in the Navy?"

She nodded.

"Do you know what NCIS is, Aimee?"

"No."

"It's Naval Criminal Investigative Service. I work for the Navy, too."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. I never met your dad, but I'll help find out what happened." Tim picked up the phone again and dialed Gibbs' number.

"_Gibbs."_

"Boss, it's McGee. I've got a situation. Crime scene."

"_Where?"_

"On my running route. I'm in the apartment right now. Navy."

"_Who's with you?"_

"Aimee. Ten years old."

"_Her dad?"_

"Both."

"_Dead?"_

"Yes."

"_You call Metro already?"_

"Yeah. They're on their way."

"_I'll call them and get going. What phone are you on?"_

"Their landline. I was running. Didn't have my phone with me."

"_Stay with the girl."_

"Understood. It's bad, Boss."

"_Figured. I'll make sure we get there. You in any danger?"_

"Not that I can see...unless Ducky kills me."

"_You touched the bodies?"_

"Had to check for a pulse."

"_Right. Stay where you are."_

"Understood."

Tim hung up and looked back and Aimee who was staring at him, fear still in her eyes. She looked nothing like Sarah, but Tim couldn't help comparing her to his little sister. He smiled at her and sat down.

"We're just going to wait. My boss is coming and the regular police are coming."

She nodded...and then looked back toward the living room.

"They were fighting," she said.

"You heard them?"

She nodded and her lower lip started to quiver.

"Mom...screamed."

Tim pulled Aimee to him and hugged her gently.

"It's all right, Aimee. You're safe."

"They're dead?"

Tim hesitated, but she'd either heard or seen everything. She knew. He couldn't lie to her.

"Yes. Yes, they are. I'm sorry."

She started to cry and hugged him back.

"It's all right. I'm right here."

She didn't let him go...not even when Metro got there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When Gibbs pulled up at the apartment building, there was already a crowd of onlookers...even in the downpour. There were flashing lights from police cars, an ambulance. ...and cameras. Perfect. Just perfect. Gibbs grimaced.

Tony and Ziva were on their way in the truck. Ducky would also be coming. It was just a matter of getting them here now that they knew there was a crime in progress. The Metro detective hadn't seemed upset about handing over the case once it was established that there was a Navy connection. It was a refreshing change.

He flashed his badge and headed inside, up to the third floor. He followed the sounds to the open apartment door. Two dead bodies. One male. One female. Both with at least three rounds in them. Lots of blood. He looked around the room. Some disorder but not necessarily because of fighting. Could just be normal clutter.

Then, he heard Tim's voice and followed it back to a small kitchen. Broken dishes on the floor, water in the sink. Taken by surprise.

When he saw Tim, his agent had the grace to look a little sheepish (but no more than a little) at what he knew his boss could see.

He was sitting on a chair, still soaked to the skin, with a little girl hugging him like her life depended on it. Another officer was trying to persuade her to let go of Tim, but she was refusing. Adamantly. Not loudly, but her arms were locked tight around Tim's neck.

Then, he heard it and knew there'd be trouble.

"You said you'd keep me safe!"

Right away, Gibbs wanted to berate Tim for forming an attachment with a kid...not that he had much room to talk, but this was extreme. ...but before he could intervene, Tim demonstrated an affinity with the girl that surprised Gibbs.

"Aimee, look at me," Tim said, pulling her far enough away from him that she could see his face. "Good. Now, what year were you born?"

"2002."

"When is your birthday?"

"January."

"You told me you were ten."

"I'm in my tenth year," she said quietly. "When I turn ten exactly, I'll be in my eleventh year. Mom told me."

Tim smiled. "Okay. So right now, you're nine years old."

"Yeah."

"Okay. Do you trust me?"

She nodded.

"Good. You need to go with this officer and make sure everything is okay."

"I told you I was fine."

"I know, but sometimes there are things wrong that you might not know. So you go there and then someone is going to talk to you."

"But I want to stay with you!"

"I have to start finding out what happened here. I promised you I would. Will you let me do that? I'm going to be right here and I'll see you later. Okay? ...but right now, you need to go with this lady here."

"Allison," the officer said with a smile.

"With Allison," Tim corrected himself, grinning apologetically at her.

Aimee still didn't let go.

"I don't want to see out there."

"I understand. How about I lead you out like I did before? You can close your eyes."

She nodded and instantly closed her eyes. Gibbs raised an eyebrow and Tim just shrugged. He got to his feet and he and Aimee...with Allison walking along beside them, left the small kitchen.

Tim came back a few seconds later.

"Sorry, Boss."

"Big mistake, McGee."

Tim flushed. "I know...but you didn't see her, Boss."

"What happened?"

"I was out running."

"Didn't think you that avid a runner, McGee," Gibbs said with a smile.

Tim rolled his eyes a bit, but obviously at himself. "I'm not. I just do it to stay in shape, and I haven't gone running since it's been so hot out. I misjudged how soon the rain was going to come and how hard it was going to be. I was running back and heard the shots. I looked to see where they were coming from and I saw Aimee running out of the window, up the fire escape to the roof. A man came out with a gun in his hand and followed her. I couldn't just stand there!"

Gibbs knew he couldn't say anything against that. He would have felt the same. So he gestured for Tim to continue.

"So I ran up to the roof and got punched in the gut for my trouble."

"Why didn't he shoot you?"

"Panicked, I guess. I'm not complaining about still being alive."

"Then, what?"

"Then, once I started breathing again, I talked to Aimee and she led me back in here. I checked her parents for a pulse. Nothing. I could see they were dead as soon as I went in the room. She wouldn't let go of me, not at all. I know it was a mistake to let her get so attached to me..."

"Literally," Gibbs interjected.

Tim laughed a little. "...yeah, but she was _so_ scared. I'm not as good with kids as you."

"Seemed to be doing all right."

"You probably could have done it better. Maybe you should talk to her about all this."

_Thwack!_

"You kept her safe and you kept her from hiding. That's pretty good considering what must have happened in here. ...and all things considered, I think she'd feel safest telling you."

"Are you sure, Boss? I don't know if..." Tim trailed off and suddenly shivered just a bit. "Well, I'm ready to get to work."

"Work?" Gibbs asked, and then grinned at Tim's confusion.

"Yeah...processing the crime scene...Boss."

"Have to wait for Tony and Ziva...and you're not really dressed for it."

"I'm a little...casual, I guess, but I can..."

"You realize that you've left a substantial puddle on the floor, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

Tim looked down and then flushed again.

"Sorry, Boss. It was raining so hard that..."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "You need to dry off, McGee."

"I need to stay here as long as Aimee is. I promised her that I'd try to find out what happened."

"Social Services will take care of her, you know."

"I know, but as long as she's here on scene, I need to be, too. It's not like I've never been wet before."

Gibbs looked at him for a few seconds and decided that Tim wasn't going to give in to being reasonable. Aimee may have latched onto him, but he'd let himself be taken in by her as well. Timothy McGee wasn't about to break a promise he'd made. With another roll of his eyes, Gibbs took off his NCIS jacket and tossed it to Tim.

"Try to look slightly professional, McGee," he said and then turned back toward the front door when he heard Tony and Ziva coming down the hall.

"Yikes," Tony said when he came in. "This is not pretty."

"Gibbs, you said that McGee discovered this? Where is he?"

Gibbs looked back over his shoulder and saw Tim hurriedly putting on the NCIS jacket...which turned out to be a bit small on him, not noticeably, but his arms were longer than Gibbs' were.

"I'm right here," he said stepping into the living room.

"Is this the new uniform, McGee?" Tony asked, looking with interest at Tim's sweat pants and running shoes. "I think you're supposed to dry them _before_ you put them on."

Tim rolled his eyes. "I was running, Tony. It was raining. What did you expect?"

"That you'd be a bit smarter than running in a thunderstorm."

To Gibbs' surprise, Tim didn't make a sharp retort to that. Instead, he looked at the two bodies.

"Good thing I was...otherwise, there might be _three_ bodies here, instead of two."

"Three?"

"Little girl. Name's Aimee."

"Yikes," Tony said. "I'll never make fun of your running habits again, McRun Fast."

"Yeah, you will, Tony, and it'll bug me when you do, but right now, it's okay. I'm just glad _she's_ okay...and I hope they can find somebody for her because she's glommed onto me...and that's not...a good idea."

"You are a very comforting person when you wish to be, McGee," Ziva said with a smile.

Tim grinned in reply but then sobered at Gibbs' glare.

"Get to work."

They set about following his instructions and then Gibbs stopped Tim from joining Tony and Ziva.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Go and see if she can tell you anything right now, McGee. If she's not ready to talk, fine...but ask her. Better if you do than Metro or anyone else."

"Okay."

"And McGee?"

"I know. It's an investigation. I can't get personally involved."

Gibbs could see that it was already too late for that...but he didn't reply. He just waved Tim off and then focused on the scene.

"See if you can find any reason for this," he said. "Two people don't get gunned down in their own home for no reason. Even if it was just a robbery gone bad."

"I do not believe this would be a robbery," Ziva said. "If it were, why would the man come here in the morning when many people must have been awake?"

"If it wasn't a robbery," Tony began, "then, it's something else...and that means either they let their killer into the apartment or else they were targeted."

"Yeah. ...and their daughter may be a target now, too."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim went down to the building manager's office which was currently being used to house Aimee and Allison. Tim raised his eyebrows as he came inside. She nodded with a smile. Tim was relieved at that. No sign of assault. He'd been worried that there might have been something he hadn't noticed.

"How are you feeling, Aimee?"

She shrugged.

"Do you mind if I talk to you about what happened?"

Another shrug.

"If you don't want to talk, that's fine. I think Social Services will be here soon to take care of you until we can contact your family."

"Don't have any other family," she said in a low voice.

"None? No cousins?"

She shook her head.

"What about grandparents?"

Another head shake.

"Okay. Will you talk to me?"

She nodded.

"All right. If you decide you don't want to talk about it anymore, just tell me and we'll stop. Understand?"

Another nod.

"So what was happening this morning? Anything different?"

Aimee nodded.

"What?"

She lifted her head.

"Mom woke me up really early. She said we were going on a trip with Dad."

"What kind of a trip?"

"A long one. She wanted me to pack as much as I could. It's in my bedroom."

"Was it exciting?"

Aimee shook her head again. Tim looked at Allison and then back.

"Why not?"

"Mom didn't seem happy. She was worried. I asked her what was wrong. She said that there was so much to do and I could help by getting my own breakfast." Aimee hitched one shoulder. "I'm not good at stuff like that, and we didn't have any cereal. I got toast and juice."

Which was on the floor. Tim hated the idea of what Aimee must have been feeling.

"What about your dad?"

"He was trying to get ready really fast. He was just...busy. He kept looking out the window...because of the rain."

"Then, what?" Tim asked gently.

Aimee's eyes dropped to the floor again and she seemed to huddle in on herself.

"Someone came in. He didn't knock. He...hit it or something because it was really loud." She bit her lip. "I dropped my breakfast."

"Are you hungry, hon?" Allison asked.

Aimee shook her head, but Tim thought that she probably was even if she didn't want to say so right now. Allison clearly thought the same and gestured. Tim nodded.

"I'll be right back, Aimee," Allison said.

"Okay."

"Did your mom and dad say anything to him?"

"Mom just screamed. Dad...started shouting."

"What did you do?"

"I walked over...to see."

"What did you see, Aimee?" Tim asked, keeping his voice low.

"He kept shouting, 'where is it" and he used words Mom said I couldn't say."

Tim smiled a little. "That's all right. You don't have to say them to me."

"Dad said he'd get it. He just needed more time. He... Daddy sounded so scared," Aimee said. "Daddy was never scared, but he was. He was scared...and he was trying to stand in front of Mom...and he had his hands out in front of him. He...He was just standing there...and then..."

Aimee started to shake. Tim leaned over and looked at her.

"Do you want to stop? We can."

She shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

"He tried to grab the gun. They were fighting. Then, the man...he...he...shot Daddy...and Mom screamed again and she tried to...to catch Daddy...and...and the man...he shot her...too...they were both on the floor. They were both bleeding! And...and I screamed...and he saw me...and...and he shot at me, too! I ran."

"I'm glad you did."

"But I ran! Daddy said that people don't run from their problems."

"Aimee, when someone is after you, running is a good thing. That means that you could tell us what happened and it means that we can find out who the man was. You didn't do anything wrong."

Aimee hugged Tim again and started to cry. Tim told himself that he shouldn't let her get any more attached to him, but he couldn't help but try and comfort her. Allison wasn't there and there was no reason to leave her crying like this.

"It's all right, Aimee. It's all right. You did what you should have done...only next time, run down to the street, not up to the roof...unless you learn how to fly."

She did laugh a little and Tim squeezed her briefly and then let her go as Allison came back in.

"Here's some chocolate milk and a doughnut. Does that work for you, Aimee?" she asked. "I'm sorry that we don't have better."

"That's okay." Aimee reached out and took the proffered items and started to eat, almost tentatively, staring at Tim...making sure he didn't leave.

Tim had been planning on getting up, but he decided he could wait until she finished eating or until Social Services got there.

"It's still raining?" she asked after a few silent minutes.

"Like cats and dogs," Allison said. "I hate the rain."

"I like it," Tim said. "...except when I'm running in it. It's no fun getting soaked to the skin."

"I like it, too," Aimee said quietly. "Daddy used to say that it was the best way to dance."

"What do you mean?" Tim asked.

Aimee smiled. "Like in _Singing in the Rain_. The best dancing is when he's outside in all that rain and he sings and dances. When he was home, Daddy would take us outside and spin us around and around until we were so dizzy we couldn't stand up anymore."

"That sounds like fun," Tim said.

"I don't think I like it anymore," she added almost in a whisper. "The steps were really slippery. I almost fell."

Tim squeezed her shoulder as she wiped her face with the back of her hand and then quickly finished eating her doughnut. She looked at Tim...not at Allison. Just at Tim.

"What now?"

"Well, that depends. We may take you back to NCIS for a while, but then, later, you'll go with Social Services until we can find somewhere for you to live."

"With you!" she said.

"You can't stay with me, Aimee," Tim said. "You need to find a home."

"You have a home!"

The way she was looking at him made Tim want to say that he'd take her with him right now, but he knew that was impossible. So he shook his head.

"No, Aimee. I need to work on finding who did all this and why. You've been a big help, but now, you're going to need to go with Social Services and they'll take care of you."

"I don't want them. I don't want to go with them!"

It took some doing, but Tim finally managed to extricate himself from Aimee's grasp. He gave her a little card with his name and phone number on it and he said that she could call him and tell him how things were going, but then he went back upstairs and joined the others at the crime scene. He stopped in the doorway and tried to get rid of the tightness in his throat.

"What happened to you, Probie?" Tony asked. "You look like you were just at someone's funeral."

Tim cleared his throat. "Nothing. Just...Aimee didn't want me to go."

"Better to get her used to it now than later."

"Yeah, I know."

"She seems like a sweet little girl," Ziva said.

"Yeah. Her dad used to take her outside in the rain to dance."

"And he won't be doing that any longer," Ducky said from the floor. "Death appears to have been almost instantaneous."

"She says she doesn't have any relatives," Tim said. "Where's she going to end up?"

"We'll find someone, McGee," Tony said. "Let's just see if we can catch who killed her parents. Social Services isn't always the greatest, but this is the kind of thing they're here for."

"Yeah. I guess."

Tim looked out the window.

It was still raining.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The rain continued all day long. Gibbs dropped Tim off at his apartment so that he could change. Tim was grateful for that. He checked on Jethro, gave him his medicine, and then hurried to NCIS. When he got there, he helped in the search for more information on Aimee's parents, Lacey and Darrin Hanson.

Darrin Hanson had been a Gunner's Mate Second Class, assigned to the _USS Enterprise_. He and Lacey had been married for eleven years. She had a job as an aide in Aimee's school. They had fallen on some hard times and money was tight.

Gibbs sent Tony and Ziva to Norfolk to talk to the petty officer's CO, to see what else might have been going on. Aimee's account of what she had heard and seen indicated that Darrin Hanson might have been doing something...less than legal in order to make ends meet. The fact that they were getting ready for a "long trip" made it seem as if they were preparing to go on the run...and just hadn't quite made it.

As he searched for more of the history of this family, Tim felt his heart sink. Neither Darrin nor Lacey had come from very good families. Darrin had two sisters, but neither had been on the grid for more than ten years. No parents. Lacey's father was in prison. Mother was not in the picture. If there were other relatives, they weren't turning up in any search.

"She has no one," Tim whispered.

"What was that, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Aimee has no one but a convict for a grandfather and two aunts whose last appearances in the system were for prostitution and possession ten years ago. It looks like the Navy was supposed to be their way out. What if it wasn't enough? What if they went back into that world just to make ends meet?"

"Do you _know_ that, McGee?"

"No. I don't. I only know that Aimee is a nine-year-old girl who...has no one."

"Go and check with Ducky. I've got to report to Vance."

Tim nodded, forgetting to be surprised that Gibbs wasn't the one going down to see what was going on in Autopsy. He just got up and walked to the elevator, his mind mostly on a little girl with no one to care for her.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs watched Tim go and sighed. He had it bad, that was for sure. It _was _a real tragedy, though, if what Tim had found was all there was to find. ...and it probably was. Tim wouldn't have left any stone unturned in terms of finding relatives.

For now, however, the important thing was to make sure that she would be safe until they found the killer. She had seen him. She wouldn't tell anyone what he looked like just yet...probably because it wasn't Tim asking her, but if she had seen him and he had seen her, he might take it into his head to make sure she couldn't ever describe him. He had been willing to kill her already. Who was to say he wouldn't try again?

Gibbs took a deep breath before he headed up the stairs. Cases like this...they made him wonder sometimes.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim walked into Autopsy, barely noticing where he was.

"Timothy, what brings you into my domain this rainy afternoon?"

Tim actually jumped a little bit. He hadn't really been paying attention.

"Huh? What?"

Ducky smiled tolerantly.

"Mind elsewhere, lad?"

"Yeah. Gibbs wanted me to see what you'd found."

"He wasn't interested in seeing for himself? Odd."

"I guess it is. Um...what did you find?"

"Cause of death is what you would expect. Both were shot multiple times. The petty officer received four wounds. His wife, three. As far as the autopsy goes, it appears that they were in good health, but Petty Officer Hanson had the beginnings of an ulcer."

"Really?"

"Yes. I've sent blood samples up to Abigail for testing, but insofar as my skills as a medical examiner are concerned, there are no surprises."

"Okay. Thanks, Ducky."

"Timothy."

Tim turned back, knowing what was coming.

"I'm fine, Ducky. It just..."

"You seem upset. Is it young Aimee Hanson?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. She doesn't have anyone, Ducky! I don't want her to get...lost in the system. There's no proof of it, but the history looks to _me_ like these two people were trying to rebuild their lives, to get away from the kind of family life they had growing up...probably for _Aimee's_ sake. I don't like the idea of that sacrifice ending up being for nothing."

"There's no reason to expect that it will."

"She's an orphan, Ducky!"

"Yes, but that does not doom her to destruction."

Tim sighed. "I know. I know you're right, but...I feel..."

"Responsible?"

Tim nodded, even though he knew that wasn't really the only reason.

"The way she held onto me...the way she...trusted me to keep her safe...I just..."

Ducky put a comforting arm on Tim's shoulder.

"You want to fulfill her trust in you. To be expected, lad. Just don't mistake that for a requirement that you be her knight in shining armor. No one can save every person."

"I'm not trying to save every person, Ducky," Tim said, shaking his head. "I just want to make sure one little girl is all right."

"And that is admirable, Timothy, but don't let yourself get drawn in too far."

Tim smiled ruefully. "I'm pretty sure I already have been, Ducky."

Ducky smiled in return. "Well, if you can help solve the murder of this young lady's parents, you will have done her a great service."

"Not a good enough one, but I'll see what I can do. Thanks for your help."

"Anytime, Timothy."

Tim left Autopsy and headed up to the lab to see if Abby had anything. Gibbs hadn't asked him to do that, but he figured he might as well.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky sighed as the doors closed behind Tim. He could guess why it was that Gibbs had sent the younger agent down to talk to him.

"Never take a case personally, indeed. That's as impossible a request in this case as turning back time and stopping the murders." He looked down at the two victims and sighed again. "I promise you that you could have no better man looking out for your daughter. As safe as she can be, Timothy will make sure she is. While I have no doubt you would be worried for her safety, you may rest assured that she will be protected. Timothy would protect her with his own life, if necessary."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Darrin is dead? Lacey, too?"

"I'm afraid so," Tony said.

Darrin's bunkmate, Petty Officer Lou Draney, expressed nothing but shock at the news.

"That's awful. When did it happen?"

"Just this morning."

"He was...so excited to be going ashore. He'd been worried about his family. They've had some hard times, financially. His pay grade was only E-5. What about Aimee? Is she–?"

"She's safe."

"Good."

"You knew him well?" Ziva asked.

"As well as you know your bunkmate in any situation. Darrin talked about his wife and kid all the time. He was proud of them, you know? Every time he could get off on leave, he did."

"Why aren't _you_ on leave?" Tony asked.

The petty officer grimaced. "I picked a fight with one of the guys. It was stupid, but I was fired up and not even Darrin could hold me back. I'm stuck aboard until tomorrow."

Tony looked at Ziva. That would be easy enough to check, but Lou Draney didn't strike them as a killer in any case.

"Do you know of anyone who held a grudge against Petty Officer Hanson?"

"No. Darrin was the guy everyone liked. Everyone wanted to hang out with him, not because he was wild but because you could trust him. ...to be honest, it always felt to me like he thought he had something to prove."

"What would that be?"

"I don't know. Never talked about it, but if there was one thing Darrin _didn't_ like, it was to have any kind of insinuation, even as a joke, that he might be doing something wrong...I mean, illegal...even just against the rules. I'll bet he doesn't have a single black mark in his whole time in the Navy."

"Thanks," Tony said. "If you think of anything else, let us know."

"Will do. Anything I can do to help..." He rubbed his head. "Man...I can't believe it."

Tony and Ziva dismissed the petty officer and compared notes. Everyone they had talked to said the same things about Darrin Hanson. He was a good guy, a nice guy, devoted to his family and never got into any trouble. His CO had said the same. Everyone was shocked that he and Lacey had been killed and couldn't think of any reason why they might have been targeted.

They had a long drive back to DC from Norfolk, particularly through the rain that was _still_ falling, but they covered the ground fairly quickly. When they returned they all compared notes. There were no drugs in the blood samples from either victim. No sign of drugs in the house so far. No surprising cause of death. ...but Aimee had said that there was something the killer had come for, which meant that Darrin, and possibly Lacey, had known their killer.

Finally, at nearly ten p.m., Gibbs sent everyone home with a special glance at Tim...as if making sure he knew that he was supposed to go _home_ and not go check on Aimee. Tim nodded in acceptance of an order he didn't like and didn't protest.

They were all tired from the work that day and no one suggested going out. Instead, they went out in the rain that was finally easing off, and headed home.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim was especially tired when he got back. With his usual morning routine interrupted, he felt as though nothing that day had been quite in sync. Besides, he was worried about Aimee. He went through the motions of getting ready for bed, but the only time he really paid any attention to what he was doing was when he had to, once again, force Jethro to swallow a pill. While he was happy that there was a treatment, neither he nor Jethro enjoyed these quality moments.

It was after eleven when Tim was finally ready to go to bed. He had changed into his pajamas and was just turning down the covers when his phone rang. He groaned. If he had to go back to work _now_, he was going to die.

"Agent McGee," he said with a yawn.

"_Tim? Is that you?"_

"Who is this?" Tim asked. It was so noisy on the other end of the line that he couldn't tell the voice.

"_Aimee Hanson. I'm lost."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Any thought of sleep was gone. Tim's heart was in his throat.

"Lost? What do you mean? You're supposed to be with..."

"_I know. I snuck out. I was going to...to find you."_

"Aimee...where are you?"

"_I don't know!"_ Aimee started to cry on the other end. _"I was going to go back home because I knew you must live close by, but...but I got lost and...and I don't know where I am! ...and I'm scared, Tim."_

"Okay. Okay, I want you to look around and tell me what you see."

"_Cars...people...and it's cloudy and hot and..."_

"Aimee, I need you to stay calm. Did you walk by anything you recognized?"

"_Yes. I was...on the Mall."_

"The National Mall? Where the monuments are?"

"_Yes."_

"When was that?"

"_A while ago. I don't know."_

"Okay. Now, look around where you are. Are you on a corner?"

"_There's a corner...down the block a bit."_

"Okay. Can you read the street sign?"

"_I don't see a street sign."_ Aimee started crying again. _"I don't know where I am!"_

"It's all right. Are you on a pay phone?"

"_Uh...no...I...took a cell phone."_

"You _took_ one? From whom?"

"_I...I don't know. It was sitting on the counter. I took it."_

"Okay." Tim strove to keep his voice calm. He needed to figure out where she was. He could lecture her on stealing later. She had walked north of the Mall. That was something. "Do you know what the phone number is?"

"_No."_

"Do you know how to look for it?"

"_Yeah. My mom...she has...had a...a cell phone."_

"All right. What I need you to do is hang up, look at the number and then call me back. Can you do that?"

"_Yeah...but what if–?"_

"Just do what I told you and it'll be okay."

"_Okay."_

There was a click and Tim tried not to freak out while he waited for her to call him back. Was this the best way to find her? He wasn't sure. It was late enough that he'd have to get someone into NCIS to do a regular trace. If the phone had any kind of GPS chip in it, he had written an app for his own phone that would trace the signal and locate it within a few hundred feet. He just needed the number. He was almost ready to do a *69. The number hadn't come up on his own phone, but he could call her back.

Then, his phone rang.

"Aimee?" he asked.

"_Yeah. I got it."_

"Good. What's the number?"

"_555-2859. Tim, are you mad at me for...for taking it?"_

"We'll talk about that later. For now, let's just get you off the street." He grabbed his keys and left his apartment, wishing that he was going to bed. He was tired. "What monuments did you walk by when you were at the Mall?"

"_I saw the White House."_

"When you walked by it, was it on your right or your left?"

"_Right."_

"Okay." Tim pulled his phone down from his ear for a moment and started the tracing app running. Then, he went back. "I've got a trace going on your phone. I should be able to find you soon."

"_I'm sorry, Tim."_

"Me, too, Aimee." He drove and then his phone beeped at him. He saw a location marked on a map and he began to head toward it. "Why did you leave?"

"_I didn't like it there. I didn't know anyone."_

"You don't really know me very well."

"_But you saved me! ...and you're like my dad. You help people."_

Tim tried not to get sucked in again because the way she talked just made him melt into a puddle. He was way too easily affected by this little girl.

"_Tim...will I have to leave here?"_

"I don't know, Aimee."

"_I don't want to leave. My friends are here."_

"I'm sure Social Services will figure all that out...after we get the man who killed your parents."

He turned onto K Street and drove for a little while...and then stopped when he saw a little girl standing under an awning, looking rather aimless...and wet. He sighed with relief.

"I can see you, Aimee," he said with a smile.

"_Where are you?"_

She started looking around.

"I'm just pulling up to the curb. Look to your left."

He was rewarded with a big smile on her face and she ran to the car and got in...and hugged him tightly.

"Tim! I'm so sorry!"

"Aimee, you can't do stuff like this. You can't just run away because you don't like it."

"But...what if that man comes again? I don't think they're...they can...really help me like you did."

Tim privately agreed, but he didn't say that.

"What are we going to do about this, Aimee?"

"Can't I stay with you?"

Tim groaned inwardly...but at the same time, his job was to keep her safe.

"All right...here's what we're going to do. We'll go back to my apartment and I'll call Social Services and see what they say about you staying there. If they don't approve it, you'll have to go back to them...and I want you to promise me that you won't run off again."

Aimee looked at her lap. "I promise."

"Good."

Tim drove to his apartment and led Aimee up the stairs and let her in.

"Your apartment is really small," she said.

"I'm the only one who lives here."

"Why? Don't you have a family?"

He could hear the sadness in her question. She didn't have a family anymore.

"I do, but I'm not married. So my family is just my parents and my younger sister. I live by myself...with my dog."

She perked up. "You have a dog?"

"Yeah, but he's been sick; so he's asleep right now. Just have a seat over there," Tim gestured vaguely toward his chairs and pulled out his phone.

"Can I look at your weird machine over here?" she asked.

"It's a typewriter...and yes, if you're careful. I don't want it to get broken," Tim said...and then, dialed the Social Services representative. "Hello, this is NCIS Agent Timothy McGee. I'm sorry to bother you so late, but..."

"_Agent McGee. I'm sorry, but I don't have good news. Aimee Hanson..."_

"...snuck away and took someone's cell phone?"

"_You found her?"_

"Yeah. She called me. I have her at my apartment. She really wants to stay with me."

"_You're the agent who found her?"_

"Yeah. What do you think?"

"_It can't be permanent."_

"Of course not," Tim said and then lowered his voice, "but until we find out whether or not she's still in danger...we can't afford to have her running around DC."

"_True enough. Well, under the circumstances, for tonight, we'll allow it. Tomorrow, I'll come over to NCIS and we'll talk about making other arrangements."_

"Okay." Tim wasn't sure if he was happy about this development...especially since it would mean he was giving up his bed...and he was going to have to tell Gibbs about this...which scared him more than the guy they were trying to find. "If you need to check on her at all, I'll give you my phone number and address."

"_That would be excellent...and you'll probably want her things."_

"Oh, yeah. I didn't even think of that. I hope it's not an inconvenience."

"_It is, but it'll be good for me to get a look at where she's staying in any case."_

"Okay." Tim gave her the information and then hung up. He looked at Aimee who was pushing experimentally at the keys on his typewriter.

"How does this work?" she asked.

"I'll show you later. Right now, you need to go to bed. It's past _my_ bedtime, let alone yours."

"I...don't want to go to bed," Aimee confessed and looked a little embarrassed. "I need my night light. I know...it's for babies, but..."

"No, it's not. I don't have a night light, but I can leave a light on in the bathroom and the door open a little bit. That way you'll still have light. Will that work?"

She nodded.

"Okay. We just need to wait for Ms. Needham to bring your suitcase over. You can put on your pajamas, brush your teeth and get into bed. I'll just grab my sleeping bag. And you'll have Jethro in the room with you. He'll help keep you safe."

"Your dog?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you said he was sick."

"He is, but if someone tried to come in who shouldn't be here, he'd be up in a moment."

Aimee looked worried. "Do you think that will happen?"

"No, I don't, but _I_ always feel safer with Jethro around." Tim smiled as if he wasn't worried at all. "If you want, you can go in and pet him. Just don't wake him up."

Aimee nodded and went into the bedroom. Tim sighed and then dialed Gibbs' number.

"_What is it, McGee?"_

"Well...Boss..."

"_What, McGee?"_

"Aimee Hanson is in my apartment and is staying here for tonight."

"_What?"_

"She ran away, looking for me. Boss, I think that until we find out who this guy is, we'd better plan on my being with her...even if it's at a safe house or in a temporary residence or whatever else Social Services comes up with. If she's in danger, she can't go wandering around, and I know what you're going to say, but I think it's better to risk that than to risk her."

"_You're on dangerous ground, Tim."_

"I know. I think I'm already on the verge of sinking, but this is my job...and it's me she trusts. That's important."

"_You cleared it with Social Services?"_

"For tonight. Her advocate is coming over to check and bring her stuff. She'll be coming to NCIS tomorrow to talk about what will be best for Aimee."

"_And you think it would be best for her to stay with you?"_

"Yeah...probably not here but with me...and whoever else."

"_I'll think about it. You watch yourself, McGee."_

"I will."

"_Right."_

There was a click and Tim grimaced. He waited until Carla Needham showed up. She didn't appear especially impressed with his residence, but she found nothing wrong with it. She lectured Aimee on running away and on stealing. Aimee apologized and returned the phone, although Tim suspected she wasn't as sorry as she acted. He agreed to talk things over with Social Services in the morning. Then, he looked at Aimee.

"Bed," he said sternly. "I'm tired and so you're going to bed."

Aimee grinned but nodded. She went into the bathroom and got ready. Meanwhile, Tim pulled out a sleeping bag and set up his own bed on the floor. He wasn't excited about that, but he figured he was tired enough that he'd fall right to sleep.

Aimee got into his bed and showed that she was also tired. She was asleep before he turned out the light.

Tim stumbled out to his own makeshift bed, lay down and was almost asleep before his eyes closed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Help! Mommy! Daddy!"

Tim sat up in a blind panic and heard the frightened voice. It was echoing his own dreams and he scrambled out of the sleeping bag, still half asleep, afraid his dreams were real. He ran into the bedroom and found Aimee huddled in a ball in the corner, crying.

"Aimee."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

"I'm sorry, Aimee," Tim said. "It's me. Tim. Remember?"

Aimee blinked at him in the semi-darkness. Then, she burst into a bout of fresh tears and lurched forward, throwing her arms around him, whimpering incoherently. Tim hugged her and lifted her up off the floor. He carried her to the bed and set her down beside him. He didn't want to let her just go back to sleep. Her dream would probably recur. It might in any case, but it was much more likely if she didn't completely wake up. He looked at the clock and saw the time. Three-twelve a.m. He sighed to himself.

"Tell me your dream, Aimee," he said softly.

"They were dying...Mommy had holes in her and they kept growing bigger and bigger...and there was a huge gun! And...and they were dead! And...and then, the big gun was coming after me! You weren't there!"

"I'm here right now. It was just a dream. You're all right. You're safe." This reminded him of the times when he'd been left in charge of watching Sarah while his parents were gone overnight. It hadn't happened often, but she'd always had at least one bad dream. "It's all right. Are you awake?"

Aimee sniffed and nodded. She looked at him.

"Do you want me to sit by you until you fall asleep again?"

She nodded.

"Okay. I will." Tim pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down. "You lay down. I'm right here. No one will get to you. You're safe."

"But...Mom...and...and Daddy... They're still dead."

"Yeah...but you're safe and we're going to find out who did it and make sure he goes to prison."

"Okay." She still looked afraid.

Tim thought about what else he could do to help her go to sleep. Then, he remembered an embarrassing keepsake, one he'd never _ever_ let Tony know about. It was the teddy bear he'd slept with when he was young. His grandma had knitted a Navy sweater for it. Tim had loved it and insisted on having it with him every night. Now, he got on his hands and knees and pulled it from its special place under the bed and handed it to Aimee.

"Here. If you need more comforting, Grizzly Adams will help."

Aimee laughed a little. "Grizzly Adams?"

"That's his name. I liked it."

"I like it, too. He's yours?"

"Yeah, but you can use him if you want."

Aimee held the bear tightly and lay down once more. Her eyes on Tim. He settled back in the chair and smiled at her. Her eyelids became heavy and eventually, they closed. Tim stayed where he was...until his own head drooped and then lolled onto the back of the chair. He slumped low in his seat and fell fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Tim awakened with a major crick in his neck. He opened his eyes and wondered why in the world he was sleeping in an armchair. He didn't even want to move because he just knew that his back would be killing him if his neck hurt already.

Then, suddenly, he remembered.

_Aimee!_

He sat up, groaning a bit because, yes, his back hurt, and saw the empty bed. His heart was in his throat as he stood up and headed for the main room.

"Aimee?" he called, making sure to keep his voice calm.

There she was...sitting at his writing desk, looking at his typewriter with interest.

"How does this work, Tim? There's no plug!"

Tim let out a sigh of relief.

"It doesn't need a plug. It doesn't use electricity."

"How does it work then?"

"I'll show you and then you can get ready while I get us some breakfast. If you get ready fast, I'll let you type on it."

Aimee grinned happily. Tim knew that this happiness could only last until the next time she thought about what had happened, but still...for now? He was okay with it. So he pulled his computer chair over to the desk and showed her how to roll in a piece of paper and how the keys worked. Then, he let her pull the handle that moved the paper back. She was suitably amazed. After that, Tim resisted her groans and made her go and get ready...while he tried to think of something to fix her. He often just had coffee himself. ...but he did have some cold cereal. That would do them both.

While he was pulling out the cereal, the milk and the bowls, he heard the tapping on his typewriter and he smiled to himself.

"Aimee?"

"Yeah?"

"Come and have breakfast."

"Okay."

She came into the kitchen and laughed.

"You have dinosaur cereal?"

"Yeah!" Tim replied with a grin.

"But that's what kids eat!"

"Hey, I know a good thing when I see and I'm not about to let the kids get all the good stuff."

Aimee laughed and poured a bowl for herself. As he was waiting for the box, he remembered that he had to give Jethro his pill. He got up to go to the bedroom and felt a hand on his arm.

"What is it, Aimee?"

She had a frightened look on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Don't...go while I'm eating...okay?" There were tears in her eyes and she bit her lip, trying not to cry.

Tim realized what she meant and nodded. "Okay. I'll eat first and then give Jethro his pill. He'll be glad for the reprieve."

She smiled, but the damage had been done. Aimee scooted her stool over close to him and kept one hand on his arm as she ate. Tim just patted her hand once and then ate his own cereal without making an issue out of it. When they were both done, she kept close by him while he washed the bowls and then followed right on his heels to the bedroom.

"Do you want to help me give Jethro his pill?" Tim asked.

Aimee nodded silently.

"Okay. What I want you to do is hold onto him so that he doesn't try to run away when I grab his head." This wasn't really necessary. Jethro had resigned himself to this ritual every morning, but if it got rid of that desolation in her eyes, Tim was happy to stretch the truth a bit.

Aimee knelt down and put her arms around Jethro, rubbing her face in his soft fur. Tim smiled and then grimaced as he grabbed Jethro's head. Jethro made a few fake growls at him but Tim got him to open his mouth and he held his mouth closed until he saw the telltale swallowing. Tim had _tried_ just putting the pill in Jethro's food, but it hadn't worked. The force-feeding was the only way to get it done.

"Good. Thanks for helping me."

"I could feel the noises he was making in his chest."

"Yeah. He didn't really mean it. He's just tired of the pills."

"What does he have?"

"It's called Lyme disease. He got bit by some ticks a while ago. It can be pretty serious if it's not treated, but he's almost done with the pills and then he should be okay." Tim looked at himself. He wasn't ready to go yet. So he looked at Aimee. "All right, Aimee. I need to get ready for work. So you'll need to wait out by my typewriter. Do you want to have Jethro with you?"

The fear was back in an instant.

"You'll be all right, but you can't be with me while I'm changing my clothes."

She smiled a little.

"Jethro will watch you and if there's something wrong, you can yell for me and I'll come right out."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay."

Tim nudged Jethro who looked at him resentfully before padding out into the main room. Quickly, Tim closed the door and got himself changed as fast as he possibly could. If Aimee was worried, he was just as worried as she was. He didn't want _anything_ to happen to her on his watch. ...or any other time. When he came out a few minutes later, Aimee was sitting on the floor with her arms around Jethro.

"Aimee?" he asked softly.

She lifted her head.

"Are you ready to go?"

She shook her head.

"You want to type something on my typewriter?"

She smiled tremulously and nodded.

"Go ahead. I'll just check my work email from here. That's the first thing I do in the morning anyway."

Aimee sat down at the typewriter and began pushing the keys.

"They're so hard to press, Tim," she said.

"You get used to them after a while."

"How long?"

Tim looked over. Aimee was just looking at the typewriter, not at him.

"It takes a while," he said...and then turned back to his computer. He finished checking his email and then stood up. "Okay, Aimee. Time to go. You have your stuff?"

"Yeah," she said in a dreary voice.

Tim smiled. He had to admit it had been kind of nice having her there. ...but he quickly squashed that thought. It wasn't even a remote possibility.

"Good. Let's go. I don't want my boss to get mad at me for being late."

They walked out of the apartment together. Tim was watching a little bit as they headed down the stairs. ...not because he expected anything to happen, but just out of habit.

...and he felt that he'd be grateful to the end of his days for that habit.

They were halfway down the sidewalk when he saw the glint of metal. Halfway to his car. Halfway back to the building. No cover anywhere.

"Aimee, run!" he said and grabbed her.

The bullet missed, but Aimee screamed in fright. Tim grabbed her by both arms and bodily picked her up as he began to run for his car. His keys were already in his hand. He pressed the button to unlock the door as another bullet whizzed by them. Aimee was clinging tightly to him now. Her suitcase was abandoned on the sidewalk. No going back for it. At the car, he quickly ran around to the passenger side to get protection from the bullets. One bullet took out the back window.

Tim threw open the passenger door, climbed inside, crawled over to the driver's side...and forced Aimee onto the floor of the passenger side.

"Stay on the floor, Aimee. I don't want you getting up for any reason. Not until I tell you. Okay?"

Aimee nodded, but didn't say a word. She just stared at him. Every bullet made her huddle and duck her head, but she always turned her gaze back to him. Tim put the keys in the ignition and started the car. Trying to ignore the bullets. It seemed as though the guy wasn't a very good shot.

He revved the engine and put it in gear. Squealing his tires, he pulled out into the street. If he got pulled over, so much the better. He wasn't going to let Aimee get hurt.

After a block, the bullets stopped.

"We made it, Aimee," he said with a sigh of relief.

He spared a glance down at her, but Aimee was looking at him with such terror that he took one shaking hand off the wheel and squeezed her shoulder.

"We're going to be okay. Understand? We're fine."

Aimee nodded, but the look of terror didn't fade. After a few minutes, Tim pulled out his cell phone and dialed. No driving while talking on cell phones...but he had to bend the rules this time. He needed to warn Gibbs about what had just happened so he could start making plans.

"_McGee, you're late."_

"I have a good reason," Tim said, keeping his voice calm and even.

"_What's that?"_

"Someone just tried to kill Aimee and me."

"_Both of you?"_

"If the guy was only aiming at her, he's a lousy shot, Boss. I was a target, too."

"_You all right?"_

"Yeah. No holes in either of us, but my car's seen better days. We're heading to NCIS right now. I didn't want to risk sticking around there."

"_How's the girl?"_

"Bad."

"_Okay. You being followed?"_

"Not so far as I can tell."

"_Good. Get here as quick as you can. We'll talk more here."_

"Yes, Boss."

Tim hung up and looked at Aimee again.

"Aimee, do you know what my boss' name is?"

She shook her head quickly.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Do you know why my dog has the name he does?"

Another head shake.

"Because the person who named him decided that he was like Gibbs. My boss will keep us both safe. We'll be okay."

"You sure?" she asked in a small voice.

"Positive. Once we get to NCIS, we'll figure out what to do."

"Okay."

Tim looked down at her. She had silent tears running down her cheeks.

"You're bleeding, Tim," she whispered.

"I am?"

She nodded and pointed. "On your face...and...and your arm."

Tim looked quickly in the rearview mirror. Sure enough. It looked like some of the glass shards had hit him...and his arm _was_ stinging a bit now that he thought about it. The guy had been closer than Tim had thought.

"It's nothing serious. I didn't even notice."

Aimee bit her lip and sniffled.

"You're going to be okay, Aimee. I promise. I won't let anyone hurt you." The words were out before he could censor them. He cursed his clumsiness in giving her more reason to attach herself to him. "No one at NCIS will let you get hurt."

_Maybe they'll keep us _both_ alive,_ he thought silently to himself.

He didn't really relax until he saw the Navy Yard up ahead. Only when he had passed through the gates did he take a deep breath. He drove over to the building and parked in the lot. Before he could get out of the car, he saw Tony and Ziva jogging over.

"We're your honor guard, McGee," Tony said jovially, although he was clearly on the alert.

"We're important people, Aimee," Tim said. "Let's go."

She pulled back farther under the dashboard.

"Aimee, it's okay. We're going to be safe. We just need to get inside."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She nodded and climbed over the console. After they were both out of the car, she grabbed Tim's uninjured arm and held it tightly, looking around for more danger. Tim wasn't going to do anything beyond keep calm, but he couldn't, not when she looked so very frightened. He gently pulled his arm out of hers and then put it around her. She wrapped her own arms around his waist again.

"You are all right, McGee?" Ziva asked.

Tim nodded. "I'm fine. I think I'll need Ducky to check this," he said, lifting his injured right arm, "but nothing serious."

They got into the building easily and headed up to the bullpen. When they got there, Gibbs looked at Aimee and then looked at Tim significantly. Tim met his gaze almost with defiance. He wasn't going to apologize for comforting a frightened little girl.

"Ms. Needham is in the conference room," Gibbs said. "She wants to talk to Aimee."

Tim nodded and crouched down in front of Aimee.

"Aimee, I need you to go and talk to Ms. Needham, okay?"

She shook her head.

"Yes. I need to get some things done and I'll talk to you later. I'm going to go and get a bandage for my arm and you'll be okay."

She shook her head again and started to cry. Tim ignored the presence of Tony, Ziva and Gibbs. He hugged Aimee tightly and then he spoke softly to her.

"I know you're scared, Aimee. I am, too, a little. But in here, you're safe. I need you to be brave for me and go and talk to Ms. Needham while I get my work done. Please?"

"Okay," she whispered back.

"Good. Ziva is going to take you up there."

Ziva looked at Tim with surprise. He smiled over Aimee's head.

"Believe me. You'll never be safer than you are with Ziva."

Ziva laughed and held out her hand. Aimee hesitated and then took it. She looked back at Tim a few times and then followed Ziva up the stairs.

Tim took a deep breath and turned around to face the music.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"McGee," Gibbs began.

"Don't start, Boss," Tim said, cutting him off. "I know that there could be a problem, but I'm not going to stand here and let a little girl go uncomforted because I'm worried about getting too attached."

"What about her getting too attached to _you_, Probie?" Tony asked seriously.

"Who else does she have right now, Tony? Are we going to call her grandfather in prison or her aunts who are...or _were_ prostitutes? Huh? Who do _you_ suggest?"

"And what's going to happen when she realizes that she has to go somewhere else, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"I know, Boss. Believe me, I've thought of that...but...I'll try to get her to lean on others...and in the end, we all know where she'll end up. ...unless we can find someone who will take her in."

Gibbs looked at him sternly for a few seconds and then sighed, giving it up as a lost cause for now. There was just too much truth in what Tim was saying.

"Go down and get Ducky to patch you up. When you're done, we'll see about a safe house."

Tim looked at him expressively.

"For _both_ of you," Gibbs added, with the same warning tone in his voice.

"Yeah, Boss. I hear you."

"Good. Go on."

Tim nodded. He got up and walked stiffly to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Tony and Ziva were ready to talk.

"What are we going to do, Gibbs?" Ziva asked. "If McGee is right and this man is after them both, it is no longer about McGee protecting Aimee...even if he will still see it that way."

"If?" Tony repeated. "You saw the look in his eyes. It's not a question of 'if' he will. McGee's got it bad."

Gibbs nodded but said nothing.

"So will we put them in separate places?" Ziva asked. "You saw her. She is terrified. When I left her with Ms. Needham, she only wanted to come back here to be safe. Someone has now tried to kill her twice. Although it is risking a greater attachment, it may be safest to keep them together. Aimee has already run away to find him once. McGee is the one who saved her both times. If she has decided that Tim is the one who will save her, she may put herself in danger just to have him protecting her."

"But there's a risk there...beyond just Aimee getting attached to McGee," Tony said. "This guy somehow tracked McGee down. If McGee is right, he thinks McGee can identify him...and he's willing to kill to keep that from happening. He's willing to kill a little girl. This could be...bad."

"It is _already_ bad, Tony," Ziva said. "We have an unidentified man who has committed murder for a reason we do not know. We have a little girl who has seen him but has not been able to describe him out of fear. And now, we have the man coming after McGee. How much worse could it be?"

Gibbs finally interjected. "He could succeed."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Timothy! What happened to you?" Ducky exclaimed as Tim came into Autopsy.

"I got shot at, Ducky," Tim said, trying for a smile, but now that he was actually away from Aimee, and away from his team, the fact that he had actually been nearly killed made it hard for him to do anything but stand there.

"What happened?"

"Long story, but I just need you to check out my arm, make sure that it's nothing serious. I think it's just a scratch, but...in case..."

"Have a seat, Timothy," Ducky said. "I'll grab my bag."

Tim just stood where he was...and Ducky paused.

"Timothy, are you all right?"

Tim laughed shakily. "Could you just...get me moving again, Ducky? I think my legs are locked."

Ducky nodded and took Tim by the arm and then pulled him forward. Once his knees bent, Tim could walk without trouble. He wasn't sure why, but he had frozen for a few seconds. Ducky let him walk to the table and sit down while he got his doctor's bag. The few seconds it took for Ducky to get the bag and return were enough for Tim to feel embarrassed by what had happened.

"Don't...tell anyone about that, okay, Ducky?"

"Of course not, lad. If you'd prefer to keep that to yourself."

"Thanks."

"What happened? That was a rather extreme reaction, you have to admit."

Tim took a deep breath as Ducky urged him to sit up straight and take off his jacket so that he could take Tim's blood pressure.

"Aimee ran away from Social Services last night. She stole a cell phone and called me. I found her and, with permission from her advocate, she stayed in my apartment last night. This morning...Ducky...she's so afraid. I know I keep messing up by letting her lean on me, but...but every time I see her... She's going through so much right now. She's an orphan. She's alone...and someone is trying to _kill_ her! How can I just sit back and say that she has to learn to get over it...or whatever?" He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what's right to do anymore. ...but when we were coming here...someone shot at us. Both of us. Ducky, we're both targets now. Aimee could have been killed...and it's only luck that she wasn't. I barely had time to think. I just grabbed her and we ran."

"It sounds like the best option under the circumstances."

"Yeah, maybe. I don't know...but it's not up to me, now. Since I'm a target, I'll have to be protected, too. ...but it's funny, though. I never even got a look at the guy. My only view of him was after he knocked the wind out of me. He was wearing dark clothes. That's all I saw. No facial features, no voice...nothing." Tim sighed as Ducky continued his examination. "I'm a target, but not really for any reason."

Ducky began poking and prodding at the gash on Tim's arm, causing Tim to wince. He was, surprisingly, remaining silent. ...and Tim found himself talking just to fill the space.

"This is different from the other kids we've seen involved in cases. They always had someone else. A parent...grandparent...uncle...someone. Aimee doesn't. Not a single person that I could find...and I looked, Ducky. I looked really carefully through the information I had. If her parents didn't think they should be in contact with their own families, how can I try and contact those same people...when based on what I saw, they wouldn't be fit guardians anyway?"

Tim sighed again and ran out of words. He watched as Ducky put a bandage over his arm.

"Well, Timothy, this is not in need of stitches, but keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't get infected."

"Okay." Tim started to get off the table.

"One more thing, if you don't mind my intruding."

Tim met Ducky's guileless gaze.

"Yeah?"

"What is it that you're hoping from this case, Timothy?"

"I just want Aimee to be safe...and then to be happy."

"With you?"

Tim opened his mouth to protest, to tell Ducky that it was ridiculous, to ask him where he'd come up with that crazy idea...but he didn't say anything.

"...because it seems to me that you are trying to justify your own feelings for the girl. I'm not implying that they're inappropriate, rather that you have formed a strong affection for her...and would like nothing better than to be the one to care for her."

Tim leaned back against the table and hung his head, feeling ashamed. He'd been denying that to himself since the day before...but to hear it laid out so calmly and logically...it was true. The irrational part of him wanted to take Aimee in.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, lad," Ducky said. "Unlikely, but not shameful."

"I know it's stupid...and I really didn't think I'd feel this way. It's...it's ridiculous." Tim looked up at Ducky, suddenly worried. "Don't tell them about it. Please? I don't think I could deal with that."

"It might be in your best interest to let them know how you feel, Timothy."

"No," Tim said, firmly. "I haven't even _intimated_ to Aimee that I would consider this a possibility. I've told her that she has to stay with Social Services and not run away again. It doesn't matter how I feel, Ducky, because I know it can't happen. If I tell them that I've even dreamed about that, no matter how briefly, I'll get taken off this case...and I don't want that to happen. I _know_ that what I want is ridiculous, but I _also_ want to be able to make sure that this case gets solved. I don't want to be left out of it."

Ducky smiled. "But you just told me yourself that you'll have to be protected."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't still help out on the case...but if they decide that I'm taking it personally...that's it."

Ducky raised his eyebrows.

"No, Ducky. Please?"

Ducky finally nodded, but Tim could detect a bit of reluctance.

"Thank you. I won't let this get away from me, Ducky."

"I think it may have already, Timothy."

Tim straightened. "No. I'm aware of the problem and I'll make sure it doesn't go any further. I promise."

Ducky smiled tolerantly. "I fear that you have an inflated sense of what you can control."

Tim returned the smile a bit ruefully. "Maybe you're right...but at least I'm aware. If I can't hack it, I'll take myself off the case. I promise, Ducky."

"Very well. I'll take you at your word and I'll keep this to myself."

"Thank you, Ducky. Really. Thank you."

"I only hope I haven't done you a disservice by giving in to what you want."

"You haven't."

Ducky only chuckled. "Well, regardless, make sure you take care of yourself. Your arm should heal quickly enough."

"Thanks...for everything."

Tim started to leave but paused when Ducky put a hand on his arm.

"...and should things not go as you might wish them to, your heart will also heal quickly enough."

Tim smiled and nodded in acceptance of both the sentiment and the unspoken warning. Then, he hurried back up to the bullpen.

When he got there, Gibbs was _not _there, but Tony and Ziva were.

"Hey, guys. Where's Gibbs?"

"He is talking with Social Services," Ziva said. "How are you?"

"Fine. Ducky said I don't need stitches or anything. Just to be careful."

"Careful is right, McGee," Tony said seriously.

"I will be," Tim said...but then, he grinned. "I'll have you guys looking out for me. I'll be fine."

Tony tried to hold the serious expression, but he couldn't and returned Tim's grin.

"Yeah. You're lucky. Ziva and I could have saved Jimmy Hoffa!"

"That's not the most comforting comparison you could have made," Tim said.

"I'll work on it, Probie. For now, Ziva and I are going out to see what we can see over at your place. I'll bet Metro's already there."

"Probably. Man...I hate being left behind."

Ziva smiled as she stood up. "Well, you will likely not be alone for long. Abby has heard about what happened."

"Oh, no," Tim said with mock fear. "Now, I'm terrified. Can I go with you?"

"Nope. You're a target, McHero," Tony said. "You must pay the penalty."

"Thanks," Tim said and sat down at his desk.

"We will be back soon enough."

"Hey, could you check on Jethro while you're there? I don't think the guy would have tried to get into my apartment, but just in case?"

"Sure, Probie," Tony said. "We'll do that."

"Thanks."

He watched them go and then sighed to himself. He felt much calmer than he had in those brief seconds with Ducky, but still...he didn't think he'd fully relax until they'd found this guy. With that thought in mind, he focused his attention on his computer. If they could figure out _why_ Aimee's parents had been killed, perhaps that would lead them to _who_ had killed them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

There wasn't a whole lot to see at the moment. What Tim _wanted_ to do was talk to the Hansons' neighbors, see if they were aware of any arguments, any people snooping around. The investigation had really only just begun, and there was a lot more to process.

...and he'd probably be out of it all, stuck in some safe house somewhere until they were able to figure out what had happened and why. They needed so much more information. Aimee actually probably knew quite a bit...but she just didn't realize she did and they would have to figure out the right questions to ask. ...and how to ask them without traumatizing her even more.

He stared at the computer screen which was currently displaying the photos from the original crime scene. What could it have been that this man had wanted? Something arranged in advance? Or was it, perhaps, simply a guy who was high and had assumed there was something owed him? ...but if so, would he be able to remember clearly enough to track Tim down? Maybe it was a mistake? There were so many options...

Finally, Tim pushed himself away from the computer. He wasn't going to get anywhere right now. They needed to know more before they could make any real theories. Since he wasn't making any progress here, he headed to the conference room where Gibbs was supposed to be talking with Social Services about what was going to be done. He figured that he should be in on that conversation...to whatever extent Gibbs allowed him to be at least.

Tim knocked on the door to the conference room. When he heard the muffled admittance, he took a deep breath and walked in. He could have waited, he supposed, but he wasn't ready to be coddled by Abby just yet, and she _would_ be coming up to do just that. Instead, he wanted to find out what was being decided would happen with himself...and with Aimee.

"Agent McGee."

Tim nodded at Ms. Needham and then looked at Gibbs, pausing only to smile at Aimee.

"What do you need, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"I was wondering what had been decided regarding the situation that came up this morning."

"We've been...discussing it. Actually, Ms. Needham, would you mind giving us a minute?"

"Of course not, Agent Gibbs," she said calmly. "Aimee and I will just have a chat."

There was a significance about the way she spoke and met Tim's gaze that told him just _what_ that chat would be about. Gibbs stood up and directed Tim out of the room...and down the hall to the other conference room. Once inside, he pointed to a chair. Tim sat down...and waited. He knew there would be a reprimand or something like that in his near future.

"McGee, I've been trying to convince Social Services that leaving Aimee in your care won't be a risk to her. Her attachment to you worries them, and it worries me."

"I don't know what to tell you, Boss," Tim said honestly. "I want her to be safe...and I understand what you're saying, but there's nothing I can do to stop that now. ...and I'm afraid that she'll try to get to me even if you separate us now."

"That's exactly my _point_, McGee! There's a little girl in that room who is now relying on you for everything."

"She was going to do this to _someone_, Boss."

"Oh, really? And your basis for that?"

"The fact that it happened at all," Tim said, feeling a bit hot under the collar. "You know a lot more about kids than _I_ do. The way I see it is that the only possibility for avoiding this would be if I had left her on that rooftop...and she's only a little girl. How am I supposed to explain to her that I can't comfort her because it will make her too attached to me? How am I supposed to say that she–?"

"McGee, that's beside the point. The problem is not how you could have avoided it. It's the fact that we have to deal with it now. You know what Ms. Needham is talking to Aimee about right now, don't you?"

"About whether or not I did something wrong last night while she was in my apartment," Tim said evenly. "...and I didn't, in case you wanted to know."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Are you saying that you don't think we should be in the same place? If so, just say it, Boss. I don't..." Tim took a deep breath to dispel the sick feeling that came back at the thought of how close it had come to Aimee possibly being killed on his watch. "...maybe I'm not a good enough agent to protect her."

_Thwack!_

"McGee, get a hold of yourself. You tell me. Do you really think it would be better for Aimee to be with you while we're trying to track down whoever killed her parents?"

Tim took another breath and let it out slowly.

"I don't know...Boss. I really don't. All I know is that I just want her to be safe. This morning...she was eating breakfast and I started the leave the room. It scared her...just me leaving. ...and I don't think it was because it was me. It was because her parents were killed while she was eating and she didn't want that to happen again. The look in her eyes, Boss. I've never seen a child look like that...and I don't want to see that again in her eyes. Not ever. I would do almost anything to...to stop that. If that makes it a bad idea...then, fine. I'll do whatever you think is best. Otherwise...I won't let anything happen to her. I promise."

Gibbs looked at him intently. Tim just sat quietly. He'd said what he had to say and there was nothing else left to do.

"This is what you want, isn't it, McGee."

"What do you mean?"

"You _want_ to be taking care of her."

Tim looked down but then forced himself to meet Gibbs' gaze.

"Yes. It is. ...but if everyone thinks it's a bad idea, then, I'm hardly in a position to insist on it."

Gibbs sighed. "Well...it's too dangerous to leave her with Social Services right now. With someone definitely after her...and after you, neither one of you can be out in the open, and it will be easier to keep you together."

"That's what you're going to tell Ms. Needham?" Tim asked, carefully.

"Yes."

Tim nodded, trying not to feel anything but interested in what manner of protection he and Aimee would have. ...and Gibbs smiled a little.

"Don't try so hard to hide your joy, McGee."

Tim let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, Boss. ...but I really do want what's best for her."

"I know."

"Good."

"When Tony and Ziva get back, we're going to work out how this is all going to go. Then, we'll decide on the safe house and get you and Aimee out there."

Tim nodded.

"Okay. What do you want me to do until then?"

"See what you can find. Talk to Aimee and see if you can get her to describe the man she saw. She's still the only witness unless you got a glimpse."

"I didn't. All I saw were the bullets coming at us."

"All right. Go on."

Tim nodded and headed out of the conference room. Aimee and Ms. Needham were waiting. Tim couldn't be sure but he thought that he detected a little less animosity in the social worker's expression. Aimee...she just grinned happily and ran over to hug Tim when she saw him.

"Are you okay, Tim?"

"I'm just fine. Are you feeling better?'

She nodded and wound her arms around Tim's waist again.

"Good. We're going to go down to talk to my friend Abby...see if you can help us. Okay?"

"Do what?"

"If you're ready we hope you can help us make a picture of the man you saw."

Aimee's smile vanished and fear took its place on her face. Tim pulled back and knelt in front of her.

"You're safe here, Aimee. No one will hurt you, and if you can help us get a picture of him, then we can find him and keep him from ever trying to hurt you again. Okay?"

"Okay," Aimee whispered.

"All right. Boss?" Tim asked.

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah."

Tim smiled at Aimee. "Let's go, Aimee. You'll like Abby. She's a really good friend of mine."

As Tim stood up, he tried not to look at Gibbs' expression. Describing Abby as a good friend was so totally inadequate...but what else could he tell a nine-year-old? Instead, he just let Aimee hang on to him as they walked to the elevator.

When the elevator doors closed, Tim looked down at Aimee. She was obviously still very scared by what had happened...and he didn't blame her one bit.

"Aimee, do you like hugs?"

Aimee nodded.

"Good. Because Abby _loves_ to give hugs. When we get in there, she'll hug me, and then she'll probably hug you, too. Are you ready for that?"

"What does she look like?"

"She has black hair and a lot of tattoos."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"That's kind of weird."

Tim chuckled. "Yep."

Aimee looked up at him and smiled.

"You like her."

Tim nodded. "I told you. We're friends."

"Is that like my teacher Miss Jill? She brought a friend to school once and said they were good friends...and I saw them kissing after school was over. Are you that kind of friends?"

Tim laughed. "We used to be. Now, we're just friends."

"Oh. Miss Jill wasn't Miss Jill after that...and she moved away."

"Well, I'm just friends with Abby."

The elevator doors opened and they walked into the lab.

"The music is too loud!" Aimee said. "Mom doesn't like me to listen to loud music because it will ruin my ears! She said so!"

Tim was about to answer, but then, right on cue, Abby was there, hugging him tightly.

"Tim! I heard you got shot! But you look okay! Are you okay? Everything is all right? I don't like it when you guys get hurt and..."

"Abby...this is Aimee," Tim said, interrupting the monologue before Abby said something that Aimee might not be ready to hear.

Abby instantly shifted her attention to Aimee who was staring at her with very wide eyes.

"Wow...you _do_ have lots of tattoos," she said, almost in awe. "One of my dad's friends had tattoos, but not _that_ many."

Abby smiled and hugged Aimee more gently than she'd hugged Tim.

"I'm special that way," she said.

"Wow," Aimee said again. She looked around the lab. "What is this place?"

"It's my lab. This is where I do all the cool stuff," Abby said and looked at Tim with raised eyebrows.

"Aimee said that your music is too loud and is going to hurt her ears."

Abby nodded. "Okay. Aimee, the stereo is right through that door in my office. Why don't you go and turn it down to the volume you want?"

Aimee looked nervously at Tim, but he nodded at her. "Go on. I'm right here."

Aimee nodded and walked to the office. As she was fiddling with the stereo controls, Abby looked at Tim.

"What's up, Tim?"

"We're going to try and help Aimee tell us what the man looked like...the one who killed her parents."

Abby's face crinkled in dismay. "Oh. Man, Tim. Okay. I'll get the program going. Let's just do it in my office. Then, we can sit by her. She's pretty freaked out."

"Yeah. Getting shot at can do that to you."

Abby hugged Tim again.

"If you're freaked out, all you had to do was say so. I'd give you another hug," she said.

Tim hugged her back. "I know. Don't want to let Aimee see how freaked out _I_ was."

Abby laughed. "Oh, Tim. You're so responsible. I like that. Okay...let's see what we can do."

The volume suddenly dropped to levels never-before-heard in Abby's lab.

"...and I'm only letting her do that this once. Got it?" Abby said.

"I understand."

Aimee came out.

"That's better," she said.

"Are you ready to try, Aimee?" Tim asked.

She clearly wanted to say no, but she nodded.

"Okay," Tim said. "Let's get started."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Tony and Ziva arrived outside Tim's apartment and saw Metro there. Gibbs had already called them and let them know this was part of an NCIS case, but it was nice to have the blocks already up...and maybe some of the legwork.

"Hey, you the NCIS people?"

"That's us," Tony said and held out his badge.

"Have you found anything useful?" Ziva asked.

"Not much. No one saw anything that we know of. The people who were awake and not yet leaving for work heard the shots and hid themselves. We're lucky that we got a couple of people calling for help." The officer gestured with his head toward a squad car. "We got a little girl's suitcase. Checked it...just clothes."

Tony smiled. "Can we take that? The girl is in NCIS custody right now. She's a witness to a murder."

"Sure. Doesn't seem to have been touched. If that's what the guy wanted, he didn't get it."

"Okay."

"So this is your show?"

Ziva nodded. "It looks that way."

"Well, we marked where the bullets hit. Based on witness statements, we didn't find them all."

"That's probably because some of them are in our agent's car."

"Ah. I see. Well, it's your scene. Near as we can tell, the shooter was hiding across the street in that direction," the officer said, pointing not far from where Tim's car had been parked.

"Thanks. You'll get us what you found already?"

The officer nodded. "Sure. I'll make sure it gets sent over. We didn't pick up anything, just documented it, but you'll get our witness statements."

"Great."

The officer withdrew and started talking to the other Metro police on scene. Tony looked around.

"Man, it's a miracle that McGee didn't get hit worse. There's _no_ cover, and he was protecting the girl, too."

Ziva nodded. "Yes. There is not much else he could have done but get in his car and drive away."

"All right. I'll go and coordinate with Metro. Go check out where they put the shooter. See if you can find anything."

Ziva nodded with only a slight eye-raise at Tony's overly-professional demeanor. As Tony walked over to the officers, she walked across the street, heading toward the area where the officer had said the shooter was camped out...and smiled when she discovered shoe impressions in the damp ground...and cigarette butts. So this man had been waiting for quite some time, and he had likely been nervous or at least impatient. Not a professional. Skilled enough to track his prey, dangerous enough, but this wasn't a hit man hired to clean up. This was the man who wanted whatever Aimee's parents had kept from him. It was personal. In a way, it was better because it meant that there were probably not as many people to track down. Larger organizations would hire someone to make sure things were taken care of and getting the killer would mean the instigators were still at large.

She bagged the cigarette butts, took photos of the impressions and headed toward the truck to get materials in order to make a casting of the shoes.

"What do you got?" Tony asked, coming over to join her.

"Cigarette butts and shoeprints."

"Great. Hopefully, they're not from the person who owns that property."

Ziva chuckled. "If it is, we will be able to rule him out, but it looks like an ideal place to wait, and it does match the trajectory."

"All righty. Oh...we should check on McGee's dog."

"We should probably get some clothing for him as well, since both of them will be in the safe house."

Tony nodded and grimaced. "This is going to go bad, I just know it."

"Why do you say that?" Ziva asked.

"Gut feeling. Besides...you saw the Probie's face. She's got him wrapped around her finger and he'll do anything for her. Little girls...they know what power they have over adults and they exploit it."

Ziva laughed. "I do not think most little girls are so...conniving as you make them out to be."

"Oh, yeah? You try watching Aimee. I'll bet you that if she looked at McGee in just the right way, he'd totally melt. You'd see it in his eyes."

"Perhaps, but he is still an agent, and he knows what is reality."

"Yeah, I don't think he cares about reality right now."

They walked into Tim's apartment, fended off Jethro's excited welcome and went back into Tim's bedroom.

"How long?"

"If Gibbs has anything to say about it, two days tops."

Ziva nodded and they grabbed some of Tim's clothes and tossed them into a bag.

They were at the scene for a few hours but they worked quickly, built on what Metro had already done and got back to NCIS as soon as they could.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby leaned back in the chair and looked sympathetically at Aimee who had once again retreated to the comfort of wrapping her arms around Tim and hiding her face. They had made a lot of progress on making a face, but as they got closer to the final product, Aimee started to huddle closer and closer to Tim.

"Okay, Aimee. That's good. We have a face. You ready to look at the finished picture?"

"Okay," Aimee said quietly.

"Remember, you're safe here, Aimee," Tim said. "No one is going to hurt you. It's just a picture."

Aimee nodded.

Abby looked at Tim who nodded and put an arm around Aimee. Abby took a breath and put the picture up.

"Is this him, Aimee?" she asked.

Aimee looked, nodded and started to cry. Abby leaned over and hugged her.

"It's okay, Aimee. You were really brave and you've helped us a lot," she said.

"Why did he kill my mom and dad?" she whimpered. "Why?"

"I don't know," Abby said.

"We're going to find out," Tim said. "I promise."

"McGee."

Tim looked toward the voice and saw Tony and Ziva staring at him with far-too-understanding expressions.

"Yeah?"

"We need to talk about some things."

"Okay." Tim turned back. "Aimee, I need you to stay here with Abby for a while."

"No!"

"Yes," Tim said firmly. He hated to leave her when she was so frightened, but he knew he had to, and he knew it would be better in the long run if she didn't cling to him like this. "I have to get to work, Aimee, and you need to stay here. Understand?"

Reluctantly, Aimee nodded and let Abby hug her. Tim got up and followed Tony and Ziva out of the lab.

"Wow, Probie. I didn't think you had it in you."

"What do you mean, Tony?" Tim asked, furrowing his brow.

"He means that he did not think you could say no to Aimee," Ziva explained with a smile.

"Guys, I'm not that bad."

"Tony says that you are wrapped around Aimee's fingers."

"Just one, Ziva," Tony said. "And you are, Probie. Don't deny it."

"I am not, Tony. I want to keep Aimee safe...and I want her to be happy. I'm not wrapped around her finger."

"Yeah, right," Tony said.

"Regardless, Gibbs would like to talk with you about the safe house."

"Okay."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"What's going to happen to me, Abby?" Aimee asked.

"We're going to keep you safe until we can find that guy and then, he'll go to prison," Abby said firmly. She didn't want any kind of doubt to creep in. The reality was that things wouldn't necessarily go so smoothly, but Aimee wouldn't be helped by laying out all the realities of this situation.

Aimee nodded.

"But what about after? What will happen to me? Where will I go? I can't go back home, can I?"

"No, probably not. Is there anyone you could stay with?"

Aimee shrugged. "I have friends...but they're not parents. ...and mine..." She sniffled. "What do I do?"

Abby hugged Aimee gently. "We'll figure something out, Aimee. Don't you worry about that."

"But what will you do?"

"I don't know yet, but we'll help you."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"The safe house will work for at least a couple of weeks, provided we're careful," Gibbs said.

"You think it'll take that long?" Tim asked.

"Don't know, McGee. You know how these things can go."

Tim nodded.

"And once you're there, you're there. No coming back to NCIS, at least not for a few days. Too dangerous while we don't have any sense of who this guy is or where he might be."

"We do have evidence to process," Tony said. "Ziva found cigarette butts near McGee's apartment."

"And Aimee got an image of the shooter for us to work from," Tim said.

"She managed it all?"

"Barely," Tim said with a sigh. "I don't want to ask her any more questions today...especially if we're moving her to the safe house. She needs a bit of time to calm down and feel safe again."

Gibbs nodded.

"Okay. We'll see what Abby turns up and see if we can get anything to identify him. Either Tony or Ziva are going to be at the safe house with you and Aimee at all times, McGee. And you're not to leave it."

"Got it, Boss. I don't plan on it."

"Good. Ziva, Tony...both of you go with McGee and Aimee and get them set up. Work on the schedule you're going to follow. McGee, you're going to be armed as well."

Tim nodded, relieved by that as well. He hadn't really thought Gibbs would make him give up his weapon, but he was happy to have Gibbs explicitly tell him to have his gun. He would feel a lot safer and more able to protect Aimee.

"By the way, McGee, we got some clothes for you," Ziva said.

"Oh! Thanks!" Tim hadn't even _thought_ about the fact that he'd be needing stuff for himself.

"You didn't remember that you'd need it, did you," Tony said.

"No, I didn't."

"Ha!"

Tim rolled his eyes. "It's not indicative of anything but absent-mindedness, Tony. Don't read anything into it."

"Yeah. Sure, McGee."

"Are you just going to sit here?" Gibbs asked.

"No. We're gone, Boss," Tony said and get to his feet.

"Good."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim, Tony, Ziva and Aimee walked into the safe house and looked around.

"This is where we're going to stay?" Aimee asked softly.

"Yep," Tim said bracingly. "This is our home for the next few days, Aimee."

"It's...nicer than my house."

Which wasn't saying much. The apartment that the Hansons had lived in was far from luxurious.

"Well, this is where we'll be...and we can't go outside, okay?" Tim said.

Aimee looked around again and nodded.

"Okay. So we'll be safe here?"

"As safe as we can be," Tim said.

"Okay. I believe you."

Tim smiled at Tony and Ziva. "So...who's here first?"

"Ziva's hanging out with you for today."

"Great! We'll have some fun then. Aimee, take your suitcase into that room there. We'll look around the place, see what we've got here."

"Okay. What about school?"

"You'll have to miss school for a few days. We might be able to get you some homework."

"Oh, don't make her feel worse," Tony said. "Who likes homework?"

"Me," Tim said.

Tony rolled his eyes. "You're an aberration."

"Well, among the frat boys, yes."

"Ha ha. If you need anything, give a call."

"We will," Ziva said. "Get going, Tony. We cannot miss you if you do not leave."

Tony chuckled and left. Ziva smiled at Tim.

"Well. We have a lot of time."

"Hopefully not too much," Tim said.

"Yes."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Over the next few days, the investigation continued with some gains but not enough. Abby got DNA from the cigarette butts, but, unfortunately, it wasn't in the system. They put out a BOLO with the sketch with no hits so far.

At the safe house, Tim was feeling a bit stir crazy, but he wasn't showing it to Aimee. The nice thing was that Aimee started to settle down after the first couple of days. She didn't even cling quite as much to Tim after a day or two. She still had nightmares at night that would wake her up...and thus, wake Tim up, too, but she would go back to sleep.

The MCRT members who weren't at the safe house continued their search. One of the things they were trying to figure out was just _what_ they needed to ask Aimee to tease out important information she might have and not realize she had. The problem with witnesses who were children was that they didn't know what needed to be shared. The things they thought were important often weren't, and things that they just accepted as normal were important. So, it was vital to decide the appropriate method that wouldn't traumatize Aimee but would still help them get at what had been going on in the Hanson home.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim looked at the suitcase. Aimee had secretly tucked it in a corner. Tim didn't understand why, but she kept putting her clothes into the suitcase instead of setting them out so that they could be cleaned.

He sighed and shook his head. Ziva grinned.

"You are enjoying your time as a parent?" she asked.

"I'm not her parent, Ziva," Tim said.

...but he walked over to the suitcase.

"I don't know why she does this, but she's running out of clothes to wear. I think there are clean clothes in here, too. I just don't get it."

"She probably does not, either, if you asked her."

"Yeah."

Tim picked up the suitcase. "I'll pull out the clean clothes...and could you just get the others washed?"

"Of course. When Tony comes, I will take them with me."

"Thanks." Tim opened the suitcase...and then smiled a little. "She reminds me of Sarah when she was young. She was such a slob. ...actually, she still is pretty messy." He pulled out a number of crumpled up shirts and pants. "She wore this yesterday." He set it to the side. "I don't think she's worn this yet."

Tim didn't look up from his task; so he didn't see Ziva's grin at this, quite frankly, parental attitude.

"McGee..." she began.

"Ziva..." Tim said softly, his voice different...more businesslike.

"What is it?" Ziva asked.

Tim opened a pocket of the suitcase where he'd been checking to make sure there weren't any socks stuffed inside. He pulled out a flash drive.

"Look at this."

"I do not remember there being a computer in the apartment."

"There was. A laptop, but this isn't... It holds..." Tim looked at it. "It could hold a terabyte of data. You can buy those, but why would they need that? Abby checked their computer. It has a 20 gigabyte hard drive...and it wasn't full. Besides...why is it here?"

Ziva shrugged.

"Aimee! Come out here!" Tim called.

Aimee came out with a slight hang-dog.

"I'm sorry, Tim. I know I wasn't supposed to put my dirty clothes in the suitcase."

"Aimee, we'll talk about that later. Do you know what this is?" He held up the flash drive.

She looked at it. "My mom calls them geek chips," she said with a slight smile. "Daddy sometimes had them from work."

"So this isn't yours?"

"No. I don't know what Daddy does with them." She shrugged. "They were fighting about it."

"About what?" Tim asked.

"About that geek chip. Mom didn't like that Daddy brought it home. I think he was going to take it back after our trip. I asked Mom why she didn't like it because Daddy brought them home other times and she didn't get mad."

"What did she say?" Ziva asked.

"She said that the geek chip was stuff that Daddy didn't need, but he liked having it anyway. She thought it was a waste, but that Daddy was going to take it back and we'd be fine."

Ziva looked at Tim significantly. He nodded.

"Do you know who put this in your suitcase?" Tim asked.

"Daddy did. He didn't know I saw him. I was supposed to be asleep."

There was no point in asking why she hadn't thought to mention it before. She clearly had no idea what could be on that "geek chip".

"Okay. Thanks, Aimee," Tim said. "...and don't put your dirty clothes back in the suitcase after you wear them. I showed you where to put them already."

Aimee nodded reluctantly.

"Good. Now, are you done with your homework?"

She sighed loudly. "No."

"Go on back to it, then. I'll be in to help you in a couple of minutes."

"Okay."

Aimee trudged back into the other room. As soon as she was gone, Tim held out the flash drive.

"I hate having to do this, but Abby had better figure out what's on this thing."

"It sounds as though your theory was right. The Hansons were involved in something illegal."

"I wish I wasn't right."

"But if what Aimee heard is correct, then, it sounds like they changed their minds."

"Yeah. Maybe. So..." Tim forced a smile. "...you've got laundry and a possible clue to all this."

Ziva grinned. "I will enjoy handing off the flash drive to Abby more than doing the laundry."

Tim laughed in reply...but then, he sobered and looked toward where Aimee was doing the "homework" he'd set up for her based on her textbooks. He wanted to give her some kind of stability, and continuing the learning process could help make this seem more...normal. Less frightening.

"If this is what I think it is," he said in a low voice, "what do we tell Aimee?"

"We should wait and see what it is first, McGee."

"Yeah. I know." Tim smiled and went into the bedroom. "How are you doing with the math, Aimee?"

"All right. This isn't very exciting, you know," Aimee said.

Tim grinned. "That's because you're not thinking about what you're actually doing here."

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ that you're doing things here that people a long time ago wouldn't have known how to do."

"Why? Were they stupid?"

"No, but they didn't have this," Tim said, pointing to the zero.

"What's so special about a zero?"

"Well...what does zero mean?" Tim asked.

"It means nothing."

"That's right. It's a symbol for nothing. People who lived a long time ago...they didn't have any way to show nothing. So if you gave them this kind of a problem, where the answer is zero, they wouldn't have been able to answer it like you can."

"Really? What would they do?"

"They'd have to figure out some other way of representing nothing...and that's hard to do if you don't have a symbol like we have now."

Aimee looked at Tim skeptically for a moment and then looked back at her homework.

"Is that why they have us do all these problems where the answer is zero? Because they want to teach us how to show nothing?"

Tim chuckled. "No. Probably not, but that's still what you're doing."

"So why do they have us do it then?"

"Practice, but it doesn't have to be boring if you think about what it is that you're doing."

Aimee sighed. "So I still have to do it even though it's boring?"

Tim laughed. "Yes. You do. If you want something harder, I can give you that."

"No. That's okay," Aimee said quickly and started working again.

Tim smiled and then looked back toward the door and saw Ziva watching him. She raised her eyebrows at him, but she was smiling. Tim just shrugged helplessly and smiled back. What was there to say, really? He was definitely doing more than necessary, but it was so nice to see Aimee without fear in her eyes, acting like the child she was. After they found out what had been put on that flash drive, they could ask her some more questions. In the meantime...

"Tim, I don't get this story problem. It's weird. How could someone have fireballs in their hands? Why would he have them anyway?"

"They're probably just trying to be different, Aimee. Why don't you focus on the numbers instead?"

"But, Tim, if the fireballs aren't that important, why use them?"

"That...is a very good question, Aimee. I don't know the answer."

"You don't? Why not?"

"Because..."

The door opened and Tim looked back to see Tony coming in for his shift.

"Because _you_ are just stalling. Get to work finishing the math."

Aimee groaned but then smiled. Caught in the act. Tim got up and left the room.

"What's up, Tony?" Tim asked. "Anything new?"

"Not here, but Ziva just told me that you guys found something."

"Yeah. Hopefully, it'll help...because if not, it won't be doing Aimee any good, either."

"And how are things going?"

"She's trying to stall doing her homework, but other than that..."

"So she's acting normal, then?" Tony asked with a grin.

"I guess so."

"Not everyone can be a nerd like you, McGee," Tony said. "Don't look so glum."

"That is not why he is glum, Tony," Ziva said. "This could be very hard to explain to Aimee."

"Yeah, I know," Tony said with a nod. "By the way, Gibbs wants to ask her about if there were any other people who came to her house with her dad, people she'd never seen before."

Tim nodded. "You want to do it now or later?"

"We can wait a little bit."

"Okay. Ziva?"

Ziva nodded. "I will let you know what we find."

"By the way, McGee, Social Services is going to be paying a visit this evening. Ms. Needham wants to talk to Aimee."

"Okay."

"Good-bye, Aimee," Ziva called. "See you tomorrow!"

"Bye, Ziva!"

Ziva waved and headed out.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Abby, I have something for you!" Ziva called out as she came into the lab with Gibbs.

"That flash drive?" she asked. "Gibbs told me."

"Yes. McGee is worried about what it might be and he is jealous that you get to be the one to open it up."

Abby smiled. "Well, I'm not too happy about seeing this, either...but if it helps us track down whoever is after Tim and Aimee, then I'll be ecstatic."

She took the flash drive and plugged it in. She scanned it for viruses and any other problems. Nothing like that was on the drive; so she brought up the content.

"Oh, dear."

"What is it, Abby?" Gibbs asked.

"Pretty much exactly what Tim would have hated to see. Full layout of the USS _Enterprise_. A manifest." She clicked a few more times. "The complete schedule of every person on the ship. List of weak points. Lots of detailed images of the cargo areas of the ship." More clicks. "This isn't good, Gibbs. This is really bad."

"It could be worse," Ziva said.

"How?"

"Darrin Hanson did not give that flash drive to the man who wanted it. He and his wife died for it...and their daughter almost did as well."

"Who would want this?" Gibbs asked.

"Smugglers, drug dealers, terrorists, thieves. I do not think that there would be any shortage of people who wanted to get this, but..."

"...but this is personal," Gibbs said. "They've lost the chance to get this flash drive. That's a bust as far as whoever is involved in this is concerned."

"It's just this guy...because Aimee can identify him," Abby said. "So...he's after Aimee and Tim to protect himself."

"If he is smart at least," Ziva said. "Once the investigation began, there was no point in trying to get it. The only reason to stick around was to clean up."

"That makes it better for the investigation at least."

"But that means that Tim and Aimee won't be safe until we catch him," Abby said.

Gibbs nodded. "So we catch him."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Tim took his showers when both Tony and Ziva were there. They both gave him flak about that, but he decided that it was better than to be safe than sorry. It meant that the two of them had to hang out a little longer, but he tried not to take too long. When Ziva came back, Tim headed into the bathroom. She obviously had news, but Tim wanted to make sure that Tony could leave if he wanted to. They'd been at the safe house for nearly five days.

Tim got in the shower and was glad of the brief time alone.

...until the door opened halfway through his shower.

"Hey, McGee."

"Tony!" Tim protested. "What are you doing in the bathroom? I'm showering. I won't be very long. Can't you wait?"

"We need to talk."

"Now?"

"Yes. While the water is on and Aimee can't hear."

"She's in bed."

"Doesn't matter, Probie."

Tim sighed and cast his eyes up to the ceiling.

"What, Tony? I already know about what Abby found on the flashdrive. You guys told me about it yesterday."

"It's not that."

"Tony, please," Tim said. "Can you just wait until I'm not naked? I feel at a disadvantage."

"No. Now, McGee."

Tim sighed again and leaned his head against the wall of the shower. Tony had the tone that indicated he had no intention of backing down.

"What," Tim said flatly.

"Gibbs is going to come and talk to Aimee."

Tim was glad that the shower curtain was completely opaque...for more than one reason. He swallowed and suppressed any desire to protest.

"About something she's not going to like, I take it."

"That's right."

"And he's not going to let me be there."

"That's two. Care to go for the big bucks?"

Tim almost smiled.

"And you don't think that I can handle the prospect of Aimee getting upset...and not being allowed to calm her down."

"Ding ding ding! You win the grand prize, McGee."

"Tony, you seem determined to find some kind of evidence that you're right and I'm totally unable to see reality. Well, I hate to break it to you, but I'm much more aware of the reality of Aimee's situation than you are."

"Oh, really? Educate me."

Tim leaned back against the shower, letting the water cascade over him. This was the longest shower he'd ever taken probably in his entire life.

"When this case is over, Aimee will be turned over to Social Services. She'll stay with them until they determine that there are no family members to give her to. Then, either the state will let her convicted felon grandfather or drug-addicted aunts take custody of her until they abandon her or else she'll go into the foster care system. If she's lucky, she'll be placed with a good family...until the system moves her again...and again...until maybe, just maybe someone adopts her. Otherwise, she's in the system until she's eighteen. In the meantime, she's going to have to deal with the fact that her parents were murdered in front of her...and know that her father probably got himself and his wife killed because he decided to steal from the U.S. Navy and then backed out of the deal he'd made."

There was a silence, broken only by the water from the shower.

"Am I missing anything, Tony?" Tim asked.

Another pause.

"Yeah, you are, McGee."

"What's that?"

"Where are _you_ in this?"

"If I was in it at all, do you think any of that would happen? ...but even though you seem to think that I've got stars in my eyes, I'm well aware that...that there's nothing I can do about it. I've seen what can happen in foster care. The good and the bad. ...and the bad seems to outweigh the good every time."

"So you're not going to do anything?"

Tim laughed incredulously.

"Tony, what do you think the odds could possibly be of someone like me being involved in the life of a little girl? Astronomically _against_ it. I don't know what you're expecting me to say. I want Aimee to be safe...and to be happy. I can help with the safe part...and while she's here, I can help with the happy part. Once this over, I can't do either one. That's why I've tried to get Aimee to spend time with you and Ziva when you're here. She needs to be with other people than me...because that's what's going to happen eventually."

Another quiet moment.

"Sorry, McGee."

"Yeah, me, too."

"At the risk of rubbing salt in the wound..."

"You care about that?" Tim asked with a little sarcasm.

"...what would you do if you could?"

Tim was glad he couldn't see Tony's face right now because he knew that what he wanted to say was written all over his face.

"It doesn't matter what I want, Tony. What matters is that we keep Aimee safe until we can catch this guy. When Gibbs comes, I won't be in the way. You don't have to worry about that." Tim took a breath. "Now...could you please get out of the bathroom so that I turn off the water and get out of the shower?"

"Sure, McGee. Sure."

"Thanks."

The door opened and closed, but Tim didn't turn off the water right away. He hadn't ever made all the problems that could be faced by Aimee so explicit and it made him sick to think about it. When his parents hadn't been sure whether or not they'd be able to have another baby, they had tried fostering a couple of kids, but it had nearly killed his mom to see the state of the kids...and then, to have them taken away and given to their mother who routinely abandoned them. It had been too much, and after having a baby who had come to them terrified of any male...because the boyfriend of the baby's mother had abused the baby...and then, after having the baby only for a few months, the state had taken the baby and given him to the grandmother...who subsequently had basically given the baby back to his mother. Realizing what happened was too hard, and they had stopped. Tim had been really young at the time, but they had talked more about it when he was older, and he knew what could happen in foster care.

Still, what could really happen? Tim knew that he would have to say good-bye; so he was trying not even to _think_ about what he actually wanted. It would be better all around if he didn't consider anything but what was reality.

Then, he turned off the water and got out of the shower. Like everything else, putting it off wouldn't make it better.

They had enough to worry about already.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim looked up from his book when the door opened. Tony was on alert, but he relaxed when he saw who had come.

"Boss...Ms. Needham," Tony said.

"Where's Aimee?" Ms. Needham asked.

Tim gestured. "Back in the bedroom. She's practicing her spelling. Or at least that's what she _supposed_ to be doing."

"Spelling?" Gibbs asked.

Tim wasn't sure why Gibbs was asking. He already knew that Tim had been giving Aimee some work to do every day.

"Yeah. I gave her a spelling list. I've been helping her...so that she doesn't get too behind while she's here."

Gibbs nodded. "We're going to talk to her out here, McGee."

Tim understood that was his dismissal. He got to his feet and walked into his bedroom, book in hand...although he knew he wouldn't be doing much during this period. He'd be trying not to listen to whether or not Aimee was crying. He sat down on the bed...and then lay down and faced the ceiling.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Aimee, could you come out here?"

"I'm not done with my spelling!" she said.

"You can finish it later," Tony said. "Come on out."

Aimee came out and her eyes widened as she saw Gibbs and Ms. Needham. It was clear that she was looking around for Tim...and not seeing him.

"Hi, Aimee," Ms. Needham said with a comforting smile. "So you're keeping up with your school?"

Aimee nodded. "Tim is making me do homework every day. I would have been done already, but I pretended I was done and hid it. ...Tim found it and made me finish."

"Good. Agent Gibbs here needs to talk to you. I'm here to help you."

"Tim's been helping me."

"I know, but he needs to be in the other room for now."

"Okay." Aimee looked at Ms. Needham a bit suspiciously. "Are you going to ask me if Tim did anything wrong again? Because he didn't! I don't like my homework, but my teachers make me do homework, too."

Gibbs chuckled. "That's not why we're here, Aimee. I need to ask you some questions, and Ms. Needham has to be here when I do."

"Why?"

"Because that's the law."

"Oh. Okay." Aimee looked around the room once and sat down across from Gibbs. "I'm not going to like this, am I."

"Probably not."

"Okay," she said very softly.

Tony smiled at Aimee and then went into the other room. Out of the way.

"Aimee, some of these questions are about things you might not think are important, but I need to ask them. Don't try to tell me what you think I want to know. Just tell me what you saw or didn't see. What you heard or didn't hear. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Now, in the last couple of months, did you ever hear your parents fight?"

"Daddy was gone for a lot of the time."

"But you talked him on the phone?"

"On the computer."

"Okay. Did they ever fight when you were talking?"

"Not while I was there."

"Did you hear them fighting?"

"Once...but it was a long time ago. Mom just didn't like something that Daddy was doing...but when he came home, they didn't fight at all."

"Do you know what it was?"

Aimee shook her head.

"Okay. That's fine. Did your dad ever bring people home to visit?"

Aimee nodded.

"Okay. I want to show you a couple of pictures. You just tell me if you ever saw them at your house."

Gibbs slid a picture of Lou Draney, Darrin Hanson's bunkmate, across the coffee table.

"Have you seen him before?"

Aimee nodded. "That's Lou. He came over a few times. Daddy liked him. They were always talking. Lou said that he'd take a hit for Daddy if he asked him to. If it was important."

"Really? When was that?"

"Just before Daddy left the last time. Lou came over and they were talking for a long time. I don't think Mom liked him much. She didn't say so, but she got that look." Aimee scrunched up her face to one of exaggerated distaste. "It's the same look that she had when she found mice in the pantry."

Gibbs suppressed a chuckle.

"I know what you mean. Did you hear anything else that Lou and your dad were talking about?"

Aimee shook her head. "Mom sent me out to play...but I don't have a lot of friends where we live...and we just moved here last year. Kids already have friends and they don't have room for me. I have _some_, but none that I could just go and play with." She sighed.

"Okay. Now, Aimee, you said that your dad put the flash drive Agent McGee found into your suitcase."

Aimee nodded. The fear was back in her eyes as they got closer to the day her parents had been killed.

"Did you hear your parents say anything that night?"

Aimee shook her head. "No. It was quiet. I went to sleep. ...but I don't think they were happy."

"Why not?"

"Because...they sent me to bed right after supper...and they only did that when they had to talk about serious stuff."

"Okay. Now, I know you don't like to talk about this," Gibbs said, "but I need to ask you some things about what happened that morning."

Aimee bit her lip and hunched her shoulders. Ms. Needham put a gentle arm around her but didn't protest.

"What did your mom tell you about your trip?"

"That...it was going to be a long trip and we had to leave fast."

"Did she say why?"

Aimee shook her head and didn't speak.

"Okay. Did your dad say anything?"

Aimee sniffled and shook her head, hiding her face.

"Nothing that you heard?"

"Not...until...the man came in."

"What did he say?"

"He wanted to know where it was."

"Did he ever say what it was that he wanted?"

"I don't know," Aimee said, starting to cry. "I don't know because Mommy...she started to scream that he didn't need to hurt them."

Gibbs got up and sat on the other side of Aimee, giving her the security of protection on either side.

"What about your dad?"

"He said he'd get it, but he needed more time."

"What did the man say?"

"He said that he was lying. He was lying and he'd paid for it already."

Gibbs nodded. That was a little more than she'd said before, but there was no reason to think she was lying. They hadn't told her anything about what they were thinking. So they had to go with what she said. No one was going to contradict her.

"Then, what happened?"

"Then...Daddy started fighting with him...and he got shot...and then...Mommy got shot, too...and...and they didn't say anything else. He saw...me..." Aimee shrunk down even smaller. "He came after me. He keeps coming after me. He..." She cried. "...and Tim saved me."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim was pacing around and around in the room. He'd started writing code in his head. He wasn't as good at it anymore, but that was good because it took more concentration...which meant he wasn't paying attention to anything outside the room.

He was halfway through a program that would definitely not work for anything when the door opened.

"Come on out, Probie," Tony said.

The code vanished and Tim instantly looked at Tony, trying to discern what was going on out there, but Tony's expression was carefully blank.

Tim hurried out of the room and saw Aimee crying, sitting between Gibbs and Ms. Needham. He stopped and looked at Gibbs.

"Come on, McGee," Gibbs said, gesturing.

Tim didn't need to be told twice. He went to Aimee. Gibbs got up and out of the way. Tim sat down and looked at Ms. Needham for permission. She might have even smiled a little as she nodded. Tim put an arm around Aimee.

"It's okay, Aimee. It's all over."

Aimee put her arms around Tim's waist. "He wants to kill me, Tim! I don't want..."

"I know. I know. We'll keep you safe, Aimee. All of us. We'll keep you safe."

Tim ignored whatever looks Tony and Gibbs might have been giving him. He just focused on helping Aimee feel safe again.

That was all that mattered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Two days later..._

"Agent David, I don't know what more you expect me to say. I feel terrible that Darrin is dead," Lou Draney said. He was much less relaxed than he had been the last time they'd talked to him.

"Yes...but I think you know more than you are saying," Ziva said with a brief glance at Gibbs.

"About what? I didn't kill them!"

"We do not think you did."

"Okay. Then, what?"

"You aided Petty Officer Hanson in stealing information."

"No way! Darrin wasn't like that! He loved the Navy. He wouldn't steal from the ship!"

"You came to his house the day before you guys shipped out. You told him that you'd take a hit for him if he needed you to."

"Yeah? So?"

"Convenient that you got into a fight that attracted attention...on the same day that someone got into the ship's manifest and made copies of a number of files. We checked the computer on the _Enterprise_. The time is the same as the recording of your fight."

"I didn't control that fight!"

"Perhaps not once it started," Ziva said. "But we have seen the videos. You were clearly the instigator."

"Which makes you an accessory to theft from the U.S. Navy..._and_ the only person we can punish for it," Gibbs said.

"Are you going to go to prison protecting a man who has already been killed because of what he did?"

Lou was silent for a moment. Gibbs pounded on the table, making him jump.

"There is a little girl who is being _hunted_ down because of the deal her father made! Now, if you know anything that can help us find this guy, you'd better tell us. Darrin Hanson is _dead_, Petty Officer! He is not going to appreciate your hiding things from us to save your own skin! Help us protect Aimee Hanson. Tell us what you know."

"I don't know anything that can help you!" Lou said, loudly. "I didn't know what Darrin was going to do. He just said that he needed my help. He wanted me to pick a fight and keep attention on that for a while. He promised he'd make it up to me."

"You knew what he was going to do."

"Not really."

"But?"

"But..." Lou sighed. "I knew it was probably illegal...at the least it wasn't condoned. He called me...not even a day later and told me that he'd made a mistake and he needed my help again...but I was stuck on board because of the fight. He said he was going to come by the ship, but he never did. The next thing I knew, you guys were here telling me he was dead. I didn't know his daughter was in danger! I didn't! I don't know what deal he made. I don't know even what he took. I only know that I helped him by making a distraction. He needed the money. That's all he said. They weren't making it and he needed the money. ...but I guess, in the end, he couldn't stand the thought of what he was doing. _That's_ what killed him."

"No, Petty Officer," Gibbs said. "What killed him was making that deal in the first place."

Lou rested his forehead on his hands.

Gibbs looked at Ziva and they both stood up and left the room. Out in the hall, they stopped walking.

"He is telling the truth," Ziva said.

"Yeah."

"We are no closer. Draney does not know what the Hansons were planning."

"Yeah, but we know that Petty Officer Hanson _was_ going to back out of his deal. Aimee told us that the killer said that Hanson had already been paid. Probably not everything but enough that he wanted that information."

"So where is the money?" Ziva asked. "And how much did they get paid?"

"I know someone we can get to work on that."

Ziva smiled...but then sighed. "It is unfortunate that McGee is stuck at that house. We could use his help."

"Abby can manage."

"He would like to be more involved."

"Can't leave the safe house."

"I know that. So does he."

"Then, stop focusing on what we can't do. Abby can handle it."

"What will we do with Draney?"

"Let him sweat it out for a while. He thought he was helping a friend."

"Helping him break the law."

"Yeah."

Gibbs walked off to Abby's lab. Ziva looked after him and then sighed. How many lives were going to be ruined by this?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony was sitting outside Social Services, waiting...a bit nervously if he was honest about it. Then, he saw his target and got to his feet.

"Ms. Needham?"

She paused. "Agent...DiNozzo, correct?"

"Yeah."

"What can I do for you? Is something wrong with Aimee?"

"No. Not like you're thinking."

Ms. Needham smiled, looking a little confused.

"What is it, then?"

"I wanted to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind. If you have some time."

"Certainly. What is it?"

"I was talking to McGee...and... You have any ideas about what's going to happen to Aimee after all this?"

"We'll have to see, but likely she'll go into foster care."

"And you wouldn't even consider McGee as someone who could take care of her?"

"Not very likely."

"Why not?"

"You know very well why not, Agent DiNozzo."

"Well, I can tell you that McGee is no pedophile."

"I never said he was."

"Actually, that's _exactly_ what you're saying. You're saying that you can't trust him."

"There's a risk."

"Yeah, and there's no risk of Aimee getting put with people who will abuse her, or people who just collect kids for the checks they get...because the foster care system is so perfect."

"Agent DiNozzo," Ms. Needham said, sounding affronted, "I have never claimed that foster care is perfect. It isn't. It's up to us to try and keep these kids safe."

"And just because McGee is a single guy, you think that's a danger."

"Quite frankly, yes. Now, is that everything?"

"Wait. No..." Tony sighed. "This isn't going how I'd planned it."

Ms. Needham stared at him for a long moment with her usual expression...and then her gaze softened. She gestured to a nearby bench.

"Have a seat, Agent DiNozzo."

Tony sat down, feeling chagrined.

"Now, why don't I start at the beginning and work you through what we'll try to do for Aimee Hanson. You can tell me why I should go against our general policy. I make you no guarantees."

Tony grinned.

"I don't need guarantees."

"Very well." She smiled, too. "Now, I'm sure you're aware of the situation involving Aimee's extended family. She knows nothing about them, apparently has never met them. ...and based on what we've found, it's pretty obvious why. So...I think we can both agree that her family is a no-go."

"Yeah."

"Good. So, the next step is to determine where she will be cared for. We'll put her in a group home until a foster home can be found. Ideally, someone would wish to adopt her after a while, but given the traumatic circumstances of her parents' deaths, it may be that families won't want to deal with the kind of problems that might arise from a troubled child. So...it's likely that she'll remain in foster care for a while."

"You know that she's form an attachment on McGee."

"Yes. We've been worried about that."

"Have you seen _any_ sign that McGee has acted inappropriately?"

"No."

"In fact, he's trying to give her some security, some consistency. He's making up homework for her so that she still has school to think about instead of some guy trying to kill her. Can you really tell me that you could find someone better?"

"Agent McGee works in a job that would require long hours on occasion, leaving Aimee alone. He would have to deal with her trauma on his own. He doesn't live in an appropriate space."

"How many families have a parent at home anymore? Besides, I had a parent home when I was growing up. Didn't mean that _I_ got a good upbringing. There's daycare, neighbors...and I know McGee. If he needed to, he would move in a heartbeat. He can afford it. He's not hurting for money."

"Oh, really. I wasn't aware that federal agents made a lot."

"We make all right...but that's not why he's settled financially. I take it you've never read _Deep Six_?"

"What's that?"

"A best-selling novel...that McGee wrote."

"Ah."

"And do you know what matters more than any of this stuff?"

"What?"

Tony leaned forward. He was kind of surprised that he was doing this, but it was really important to him. It was worth the discomfort.

"Tim cares about Aimee. He wouldn't walk out on her if it got hard. He would do anything for her. That includes stepping back. He's not going to put himself forward because he's afraid of disappointing Aimee, of hurting her. ...and he's afraid of hurting himself by letting himself hope. He'll never say anything because he's afraid of hearing no. For him, it's a foregone conclusion...and maybe it is for you, too. ...but it shouldn't be. It's wrong to assume that Tim will do something wrong when you have absolutely _no_ evidence of that. In fact, you have mounds of evidence to the contrary...and people who will swear up and down that Tim would be good for Aimee."

"What are you expecting from this, Agent DiNozzo?"

Tony shrugged. "Maybe nothing. Don't tell Tim I did this. He has no idea I'm here, and he might not appreciate me sticking my nose in. I just want you to think about it. I know what you're thinking, but I think that's wrong...and just watching Tim with Aimee over the last few days tells me that he would take care of her...and he's someone she trusts already."

As Tony expected, Ms. Needham said nothing either for or against his declaration. Instead, she stood up and put out her hand.

"It's been...an illuminating conversation, Agent DiNozzo. Good luck on your investigation. I hope you find that man soon."

"So do I."

"Good night," Ms. Needham said and then walked away.

Tony looked after her and sighed. Well, he'd done his best. Nothing more could be done now.

They all had enough to do trying to track down this man. Perhaps it would be best to worry about where Aimee would end up _after_ they'd made sure she was safe.

On that note, instead of heading home, he went back to NCIS to see what there was to do.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Two days later..._

Ziva listened with half an ear as Tim went through his morning ritual with Aimee. He'd made it into a kind of serious game. He quizzed her, asking the same question each and every morning before breakfast. After nearly two weeks of this, Aimee could answer the questions without any hesitation.

"Okay, Aimee," Tim said.

He treated it with the same gravity every morning, even while he would smile at the sighs Aimee would give in reply.

"If I or Agent David or Agent DiNozzo tells you to hide, where do you go?"

"I go to the secret hiding place."

"Do you stop to ask questions?"

"No. No questions. I go if I'm told to go," she said, mimicking Tim's inflection.

Ziva grinned but stayed silent..

"Exactly. Now...how long do you stay there?"

"I stay until you tell me to come out."

"And who else can you listen to?"

"Agent David or Agent DiNozzo."

"And what if no one comes to get you?" Tim asked.

The first time he'd asked this question, it had frightened Aimee, but now, although she always took this part very seriously, she accepted it as one possibility.

"I stay where I am."

"And what do you do while you're hiding?"

"If it's dark, I wait until it's light. If it's light, I wait until it's dark, and then I use the phone that's in there to call for help."

"And do you use the phone in any other time?"

"If it's noisy out here, I can whisper into the phone, but only if it's noisy so that no one can hear me."

"Good. And if the police come?"

"I can call and see if they're really police...but I have to whisper."

"Good. Now...one last question."

"I want cold cereal for breakfast!" Aimee said.

That was always the last question. Tim smiled.

"Cold cereal it is." Tim went to get it out. "Ziva?"

Ziva went into the kitchen. Aimee still had a lingering fear of people leaving the room or being out of the room during breakfast; so they tried to be in there while she was eating.

"What cereal do we have left?"

Tim grinned at Ziva. "Dinosaur cereal."

"Oh, no. I will have to get more the next time I go off shift. I do not understand how you two can enjoy this so much. It is fake grains and sugar."

"It's delicious," Tim said. "You just have no taste."

"I have _excellent_ taste, McGee. I think this stuff has destroyed yours."

Tim laughed and nudged Aimee conspiratorially before pouring cereal into three bowls. He gave Ziva quite a bit less, knowing that she didn't appreciate it. They ate together and Tim kept the chatting light.

After breakfast, Tim had Aimee help Ziva wash the dishes while he did some other cleaning around the apartment. It was mostly being done for Aimee's benefit, although she didn't see it that way...of course. She was a little girl who didn't want to do chores, but it gave her more normalcy in the midst of all this stuff going on. Aimee was getting tired of being inside all the time, but she was frightened enough at the thought of being found again that she didn't try to leave.

Ziva found that she was enjoying watching Tim interact with Aimee. He gave her chores to do. He helped with her homework. No matter whether or not he'd try to deny it, he was acting like a father...and he was doing a good job of it. ...and for someone who hadn't had the best father in the world, Ziva liked the chance to see someone really try to do right by a child. She'd never tell Tim, but his devotion to doing what was right for Aimee was endearing.

After breakfast was cleaned up and the chores were done, Tim let Aimee get on the computer (no Internet for security purposes...since they didn't know anything about the killer's abilities) to play for a while. He went over and sat down beside Ziva.

"McGee, we will have a breakthrough," she said, correctly interpreting the expression on his face.

"Before Aimee and I go nuts?" Tim asked, smiling slightly. He sighed softly and ran his hands through his hair.

Ziva returned the smile.

"You are doing very well so far."

"That's because if _I_ show any level of frustration, Aimee will either go further or feel like this is her fault. Last night, she was asking me if I was sorry that I had helped her."

"Are you?"

"Of course, not!" Tim said, sitting up. "I wish I could do more. All I can do is sit here, and..."

"...and spend time with a little girl who needs you."

Tim shook his head, but it wasn't so much because he disagreed. It was because she could see that he didn't want to think about that part of what was going on here. Ziva could accept it. Tony had mentioned what Tim had said before, but by mutual agreement, they were not discussing it. Tim clearly wasn't interested in trying to talk about it, choosing instead to focus only on what was best for Aimee.

"Well, you never never know. The BOLO may give us something to work with at some point."

"It's been almost two weeks."

"Yes."

"You think we'll be moved?"

"Perhaps. Gibbs has not said so, but I think he is considering it."

Tim nodded.

"I just want this to be done," he said, keeping his voice low. "I don't want to be in limbo anymore."

"I understand."

"Tim! The game isn't working!" Aimee called.

Tim looked at Ziva and smiled.

"I'm coming, Aimee!"

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"We got something, Boss!" Tony said, hanging up the phone.

"What?" Gibbs asked.

"Guy saw the BOLO and recognized him."

"Who is he?"

"Dante Jones...a tattoo artist. Said the guy was one of his customers."

"When?"

"Few months ago."

"Let's roll."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Dante Jones ran a fully-licensed tattoo studio in Maryland. He never spent much time watching television. He was trying to establish himself in the business, but he had caught a glimpse of it while out at a bar with some friends. When he had recognized the sketch, he hadn't been sure what to do about it. Would it be courting problems if he admitted to having seen the guy? Would it be courting _more_ problems if he _didn't_ mention it? In the end, he decided it would be better to be seen as cooperating with police rather than concealing things from them.

"We're glad you did," Tony said.

Dante nodded as he handed over the information.

"I can't tell you if the information is real. I don't go checking if the money goes through. ...and his card worked."

"Got it. You remember the tattoo you gave him?"

"Sure. I remember all my tats. He got a stylized piece of barbed wire, running from his shoulder down his chest, ending around the middle of his rib cage...with two letters in the middle of it."

"Stylized barbed wire?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. Here. I'll show you. I take pics of all my own designs. No face. Privacy, you know, but I got the tattoo."

"I'd like to see that," Gibbs said.

Dante pulled out his catalog and flipped open to the pictures of their killer's tattoo. Like he had said, no face, but they got skin color, build...and now, they finally had a name...and a credit card to trace.

"What are those two letters?"

"C and M."

"Chuck McQuivey," Tony read off Dante's record. "I find it hard to believe he'd get a tattoo of a fake name. That's a pretty permanent thing."

"And it's not cheap," Dante said. "I do good work."

"Yeah, you do. I should give a friend of mine your address. She's been thinking of getting a new tat," Tony said with a smile.

"I'll give her a great deal," Dante said.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for your help, Mr. Jones."

"My pleasure."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Dante smiled at the understanding in Tony's voice. Gibbs and Tony left the studio together.

"Okay. We've got a name to run, and see if Abby can get this matched up with the money trail she's trying to find."

Tony nodded.

"I hope this is something, not just another twist."

"Could be."

"Maybe it won't be."

Gibbs smiled.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The rain started up that afternoon. It thundered for about an hour before the first drops fell...but like on the first day, once they started to fall, the rain was steady.

When Tony came in the evening, he had lots of news to share, and Tim ate it up, asking so many questions that Tony made Ziva stay and take notes of the things Tim wanted to ask Abby. By the time she left, Ziva had no less than two pages worth of thoughts for Abby...some of them borne simply out of a need to be involved.

"It's pretty muggy," Tim said, staring out the window. "How's Jethro doing?"

"Oh, he's fine. Gibbs put him up at his house, and Abby spoils him rotten."

"Great."

"Hey, McGee..." Tony began.

"No, Tony," Tim said, and walked to the bedroom to check on Aimee. He figured that Tony wanted to talk more about what Tim had told him, and he just didn't want to deal with that right now.

When he looked in on Aimee, she wasn't sitting at the little desk, doing homework. She was sitting by the window. He heard a sniffle and Aimee wiped at her face. Tim walked over.

"Aimee?"

"I remember Daddy taking us outside in the rain one day. He said that we shouldn't hide from the rain because...because the rain helped us all live. He said that we should play in the rain to show that we appreciated it. I miss him, Tim. I miss both of them." Aimee started to cry, and Tim noticed she was holding his stuffed bear...Grizzly Adams. He sat down on the bed.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"You'll get to play out in the rain again."

"But not with them."

"No, not with them...but you can learn to have fun in the rain again, and they'll like that. They'll see you playing and they'll be glad that you're happy."

Aimee looked at him.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I still miss them, though."

"Of course you do. They're your parents." Tim swallowed his own pang. "Why don't you go wash up. I have it on good authority that we might be getting pizza tonight."

Aimee smiled. Yes, there were still some tears, but they were tempered by the simple pleasure of anticipation. She hurried into the bathroom. Tim stayed where he was, sitting on the bed, looking out at the rain.

"Hey, McGee, what's up?"

"Aimee was just missing her parents. You know...she said that she liked to play in the rain. When I was younger...I liked the rain for a different reason."

"Why?"

Tim didn't turn around. He just stood up and watched the storm for a few seconds.

"In the rain...nobody can see if you're crying."

There was a long silence and then Tim turned around when he was confident the pang had passed. He smiled at Tony.

"I kind of wish I was out there right now."

He eased by Tony and into the kitchen.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I can't tell you _where_ he is," Abby said, "but I can tell you _who_ he is."

"And?" Ziva asked.

"He's Charles W. McQuivey, originally out of Canada, south of Toronto. Seems to have come across the border somewhere without actually getting passed in. He never would have been allowed in. Plenty of charges of drug dealing up there."

"Is he a part of a larger organization or is he looking to expand his own?"

"No sign of big-time links, but that doesn't mean there aren't any," Abby said, pulling up an old Canadian driver's license. "His credit card led me to the account where he got the money to pay Petty Officer Hanson. ...and you know what? It stinks that everything went so bad for them. The Hansons had almost nothing saved away. That apartment they were living in was cheap...in every sense of the word. They were barely getting by. I can see why he started down the road."

"And it got him killed, Abby," Gibbs said. "Any signs of where McQuivey might be at the moment?"

"Not in his records. No phone registration. No apartment. Nothing besides that credit card. He's probably not trying to draw attention to himself right now."

"Okay. We'll get more details to Metro. Make sure the source of the information isn't let out. We don't want McQuivey going after the tattoo artist."

"Definitely not," Ziva agreed.

"Yeah. Tony said I'd probably like his work. I think I'm going to check him out."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

"When the case is over, Gibbs!"

"So...what now?" Ziva asked.

"Now, we find him," Gibbs said. "One guy working alone means that when we get McQuivey, Aimee Hanson will be safe."

"So long as we _do_ find him," Ziva said.

"Yeah."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The rain continued fairly steadily for the next day. There were times when it let up, but there were always a few drops falling. Tim and Aimee continued to be bored because they had to sit around in the safe house. Tony and Ziva didn't complain (at least not when they were at the safe house), but they weren't too thrilled with the situation either. All in all, everyone was ready for this to be done. ...but it wasn't.

Abby was trying to track down what might have happened to the money. McQuivey hadn't used his credit card in weeks. He'd gone completely off the grid so far as they could tell. He clearly knew how law enforcement tracked criminals. The RCMP had shared what they had, but it was all a few years old. McQuivey was a career criminal, focused mostly on the drugs arena, but he wasn't above assault, and there had been a couple of cases in which he had come under suspicion for murder. Unfortunately, he had skipped town before they had been able to bring him in.

They had started getting hits on the BOLO, but they weren't consistent. Some had been near NCIS. Some in the general vicinity of Social Services. Some in Silver Spring. They were all over the place. How many of them, if any, were legitimate was another question.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Tim, I think I can see a ray!"

Tim hurried over to the window.

"Oh, it's gone," Aimee said and sighed. "Tim...I feel like this is all there is."

"It's not. It'll get better."

"I want to go outside."

"I know. You can't. Not yet."

She sighed again.

"We'll see what happens, Aimee, but this will be done soon enough."

"What if it isn't?"

"It will."

"But what if it isn't?"

"Then, they'll probably move us somewhere else."

Another sigh.

The door opened.

"Hey, guys! The party is here!" Tony announced.

Ziva chuckled.

"Good. Then, I can go _out_ and party."

Tony rolled his eyes. Tim knew that Ziva would likely be going back to NCIS for a while to catch up. Tony could give a report, but it wasn't the same as seeing all the evidence and progress being made. Tim could sympathize with that.

Tim quickly showered (with no interruptions) and then let Ziva get out of the safe house. Tony brought some takeout for dinner, and they ate quickly before sitting down to play a few games.

Tony's phone rang around seven.

"DiNozzo. Hey, Boss."

His expression went serious as he listened. When he hung up, he smiled at Aimee and they finished the game.

"Aimee?" Tony said.

She sighed again. "Private talking. I know." She got up and headed into her bedroom.

Tim smiled after her but sobered.

"What is it?"

"Couple of the hits on the BOLO are kind of close to this area. Gibbs and Ziva are checking one out and then, we're going to move you guys to another safe house, probably tomorrow."

Tim nodded. "All right."

"I'm going to make the rounds of the area. I'll call you while I'm out there, let you know if I see anything."

"Okay."

"No following me, McGee," Tony warned.

Tim smiled. "I wouldn't leave Aimee alone in here. She'd probably follow me."

"I'm sure she would. See you in a bit."

Tony left and Tim tried not to feel worried. This would be just like any other day. It was too bad they'd have to leave. This was pretty nice as safe houses went.

"Can I come out now, Tim?"

"Yeah. We're probably leaving tomorrow."

"For good?"

"To another safe house."

Aimee's face fell. "Oh."

"Sorry, Aimee."

She gathered up the cards.

"Well...at least we can still have some fun. You told me you were going to show me how to play some of those ancient computer games."

"Ancient? Ancient?" Tim asked, feigning insult. "Those games came out when _I_ was a kid."

"Then, _you're_ ancient, too!"

"You incorrigible little..."

His phone rang.

"Saved by the bell."

Aimee laughed and Tim grinned as she left the room.

"Hey, Tony."

"_All's quiet on the western front."_

"That's a good book."

"_Book? I thought it was a movie."_

"I'm sure it was if _you've_ heard of it. I read the book."

"_I'm sure you did. I'm not seeing anything...except more rain."_

"Lucky you."

"_Hey, Probie..."_

"Tony, we don't need to talk about anything right now."

"_No, this is something you might be mad at me for."_

"What?"

"_Well, I did something that you might not appreciate, but I promise I did it out of concern."_

"What did you do?"

Silence.

"Tony?"

There was a thump.

"Tony!"

His heart started pounding. Tony wouldn't play games at a time like this. He hung up his own phone.

"Aimee!" he called.

"What, Tim?"

"It's time for you to hide."

Aimee ran out of her room and looked at him with fear in her eyes.

"Remember what you're supposed to do?"

She nodded.

"Go do it," Tim said. "Don't wait. Go."

Aimee nodded again and ran back into her bedroom, to the hidden crawl space that had been set up as a place she could hide. It wasn't ideal, but a last stand wasn't ideal anyway.

As soon as she was out of sight, Tim pulled his gun. There were two ways into this apartment: the door and the fire escape. Tim had no idea which way this guy would come. He had no idea whether Tony was dead or injured. He would call for Gibbs, but he wasn't sure he could afford even that minuscule distraction.

He edged toward the bedroom where the fire escape was located. He peeked inside and saw nothing but the rain.

He turned back toward the front door. Silence. Only silence. The bolt was already turned.

He walked back to the bedroom and pulled out his phone, gun in hand. He started to dial.

...but dropped his phone when he heard the gunshot...and felt it.

Tim staggered backwards against the bed, his right hand instantly covering the spot. He felt blood. If he let himself give in to the desire to black out right now, he figured that Aimee would be found.

He looked toward the window and saw a dark shape. His vision kept blurring, but he lifted his gun and fired three shots. The shape sagged to the floor.

Tim staggered against the bed and fell to the floor, gun in his left hand, right hand covering his side. For a few delirious seconds, he thought that maybe it wasn't as bad as he'd thought originally. ...but then, the nausea and pain flooded over him and he started breathing heavily, trying to calm down. The adrenaline was no longer enough to keep the pain away, but it _was_ enough to keep his heart racing. He aimed at the body on the floor, trying to make sure that he was really dead.

No movement. Nothing. ...and Tim knew he was bleeding to death...even without whatever internal damage there was. If he wanted to survive, he needed help.

And there was only one person left alive in this apartment.

The last thing he wanted was for Aimee to have to see something like this again, but Tim also knew that it would be a problem if he died now. Steeling himself, he straightened up against the bed, pressed his hand more firmly against his side, and called out.

"Aimee! Aimee, it's safe to come out now!"

He waited. For a few seconds. Then, there were running feet.

"Tim!"

Tim forced himself to smile at Aimee. She was horrified.

"Tim, you're hurt."

Pushing the radiating pain back, Tim nodded.

"Aimee, I need your help. Okay?"

"What happened?"

"I need you to help me. Can you do that?"

"I don't know what to do, Tim!" she said, sounding frightened.

"I know. I'm going to tell you what to do. Are you ready?"

Aimee nodded.

"Good. I need you to find my phone," Tim said. He clenched his teeth tightly as a particularly sharp stab of pain raced through his body. "I dropped it somewhere in this room. I think it was by the door. I need you to find it and bring it over to me."

"Okay, Tim," Aimee said in a small voice.

She dropped to her knees and started searching around on the floor.

"I found it!"

"Great. Very good," Tim said. There were black spots in his vision, but he tried to keep them from spreading. "Bring it over here."

"Okay."

Aimee came over.

"There's blood, Tim."

"I know. What I need you to do is turn on my phone and bring up my boss' number. Do you remember when I showed you how to get into my contact list?"

"Yeah...but Tim!"

"Just do that. Go through my list until you see Gibbs' name. Select it and then push the call button."

Aimee looked at the phone and pushed a few buttons while Tim watched her. He was losing a lot of blood, but he knew that there were very few options when it came to this situation. He had to get help here before he passed out. Ideally, he needed to stay conscious until someone showed up who could take care of Aimee.

"It's ringing, Tim."

"Good. Put it to my ear and just hold it there while I talk."

Aimee pressed the phone against Tim's ear just as Gibbs picked up.

"_Gibbs."_

"Boss," Tim said and then had to breathe a few times.

"_McGee?"_

"Yeah."

"_What happened?"_

"What we were afraid would happen."

"_McQuivey?"_

"Dead...I think. I didn't stop to...ask his name."

"_You're hurt?"_

"Yeah."

"_Bad?"_

"Very."

"_I'll get an ambulance over there. Ziva and I are coming. We'll clear the scene. Where's Tony?"_

"Don't...know. He was talking to me on the phone and then..."

"_Okay. Aimee's there?"_

"Right here. She's safe."

"_Good. We'll be there in a few minutes. Don't you give in, McGee."_

"Right...Boss."

"_Stay as still as you can."_

"Okay." Tim looked at Aimee. "You can turn off the phone now, Aimee."

Aimee's eyes were on Tim's side. His hand was covered in blood and his entire left side was bloodstained.

"You're bleeding a lot, Tim," she said with tears in her eyes.

"I know."

"Are you going to die? I don't want you to die, Tim!"

"I don't either, Aimee. So...you need to run into the bathroom and grab some towels. I'll use them to stop the bleeding."

"Will...it work?"

"I don't know, but we need to try, okay?"

Aimee ran into the bathroom and then back to the room, her arms full of towels, possibly every single towel in the bathroom. She was crying audibly.

"There's so much blood, Tim! I'm scared!"

Tim wanted to comfort her more, but he couldn't. It was all he could do not to be writhing in pain or passing out. Aimee was staring at him afraid and crying. He had to be straightforward.

"I know. Get two of the towels. I'm going to lift up my hand and I want you to put them where I was pressing. Then, I'm going to press down on the towels. Are you ready?"

Aimee shook her head and closed her eyes.

"Aimee, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me."

Aimee did as Tim told her.

"Good. Now, I know that you're scared. I know you don't...like this, but I need you to help me. You've been doing a really good job so far. You've been perfect. I need you to do this one more thing."

Still crying, Aimee nodded and picked up two towels.

"Ready?" Tim asked.

She nodded again.

Tim gritted his teeth and raised his hand. Aimee hesitated and then put the towels against his side. Instantly, Tim pressed down again.

"Okay. Now, we just need to wait for a few minutes until...until Gibbs gets here."

Tim wanted to lie down, but he couldn't because he figured that Aimee would take that to mean that he was dying. ...which he knew he probably was. He couldn't stop this bleeding on his own, and he couldn't replace the blood he'd already lost. He needed someone else to help him. Aimee had done what she could. All they could do now was wait.

It seemed like an eternity, but Tim knew it was only a couple of minutes before he heard footsteps and someone fumbling at the door. It was more than likely Gibbs and Ziva, but Tim couldn't take chances. Aimee jumped at the sound.

"Aimee...quick. Get under the bed."

"But..."

"Under the bed. Now!"

Aimee crawled under.

"All the way back to the wall. Don't make any sound until I tell you."

"Okay," came her frightened voice.

Tim raised his gun and pointed it toward the door. He couldn't see the front door from where he was sitting, but he could still shoot if it proved to be someone with dishonorable intentions.

The door opened, and Tim could see his hand shaking way too much to get off a good shot.

"McGee?"

Tim nearly wilted with relief.

"Back...here...Boss!" he called weakly.

There were running footsteps and Tim saw Gibbs and Ziva standing in the doorway.

"Aimee, come on out," Tim said. He felt himself fading, and he wanted her out of the room before that happened.

There was no movement.

"Aimee. It's my boss and Ziva. Come out."

Ziva looked at Tim and knelt down.

"Aimee, it is me. You know my voice."

A couple more seconds of silence and then Aimee crawled out. She looked at Tim, her eyes red and full of tears.

"Go with Ziva, Aimee. She'll take care of you."

"Tim..."

"Go on. I'll be fine with Gibbs. You did a really good job."

Ziva put an arm around Aimee and led her to the door.

"The EMTs will be here in a few seconds, McGee," she said.

"Okay."

"Come, Aimee. We will tell them to come inside."

Aimee finally let herself be led from the room and Tim stopped trying to hide the pain. Tears were in his own eyes and his breathing was harsh in his own ears.

"He was...too fast for me, Boss."

Gibbs carefully moved Tim onto his back on the floor. He checked the wound under the towels.

"It's all right, McGee. You'll be fine."

"I...don't know...if I will, Boss," Tim said. "This is...not a scratch. So...much blood, and I couldn't stop it."

"You'll be fine, and don't you think of _anything_ else being a possibility."

Tim felt his body spasm once as the pain surged. He closed his eyes.

"It...really hurts, Boss."

"In here," Gibbs shouted.

The EMTs.

"Single gunshot wound to left side. Significant blood loss. Danger of hypovolemic shock."

"Blood...Type A+," Tim said.

"We'll have to type it at the hospital, but thanks for telling us, Agent McGee."

"We're going to move you onto a stretcher now, Agent McGee. I just need you to stay awake, all right?"

"Don't know if I...can."

_Thwack!_

Tim opened his eyes, seeing the black spots getting larger.

"You can and you _will_, McGee. Don't make Aimee face someone else dying."

Tim looked over at Gibbs.

"That's...a low blow...Boss."

Gibbs smiled. "Will it work?"

"Maybe."

"Then, I don't care."

Tim felt himself shifted onto a stretcher. They lifted it up and started to wheel him out.

"Wait!" Tim said.

"Agent McGee, we have to..."

"Just a second. Boss..." Tim reached out toward Gibbs. He felt Gibbs near him.

"What is it, McGee?"

"Just in case...tell Aimee that she did a good job...that it's not her fault. Don't...let her think that this...was because of...of her."

"Okay, McGee. Just go."

Tim nodded and let himself fall back against the stretcher. They wheeled him out of the apartment and to the ambulance. He thought he heard Aimee once, but he couldn't muster the energy to speak. It was too hard.

"Agent McGee, we'll get you to the hospital in just a couple of minutes. If you can hang on this long, you can hang on a bit longer."

"That...doesn't necessarily...follow, you know."

"Ah, a technical guy. Well, stop thinking about logic. Just keep a positive attitude and that will help."

"Will it really?"

"Yes. As will you if you can slow down your breathing a little bit and keep calm."

"I'll...try."

"Good."

Tim drifted in and out of the blackness all the way to the hospital. Words and phrases passed over his head until finally, one doctor leaned over him in one of his conscious phases.

"Agent McGee we're taking you into surgery now. Just relax and we'll get you through it."

Tim nodded and closed his eyes...hoping he'd wake up again.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ziva stayed with Aimee until they could get Social Services there. Aimee clung to her, continually asking if Tim would be okay, if he had died, telling Ziva to tell her that Tim would be okay. Ziva just hugged her.

"Ziva, I found Tony," Gibbs said.

"He is all right?"

"He'll recover. McQuivey gave him quite a knock on the head, shoved him into the bushes at the back of the building."

"Aimee, can you stay with this detective for a moment?"

Aimee started to cry and shook her head. Ziva might not be Tim, but she was there and Aimee knew her. She didn't want to be left alone with another stranger.

Gibbs knelt down in front of her.

"Aimee?"

Aimee just sniffled.

"Tim told me that you did a great job helping him, that you were really brave and did everything he asked you to do. I know you don't like it, but Ziva and I need to go and help Tony. We'll be right back, but you need to stay here for a few minutes. Can you be brave again and let us help Tony?"

Aimee chewed on her lower lip for a while and then nodded.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Good. When Ms. Needham gets here, she'll take you someplace where you can get some sleep."

"I want to see Tim."

"I'm sure you'll be able to later."

"Will he be okay, Agent Gibbs?"

"I think he will."

"Tim says you're good at protecting people."

Gibbs smiled. "We do our best."

"You helped him."

"So did you."

Aimee sniffled a few more times. "I'll stay here."

"Okay."

Gibbs gestured to Ziva and they hurried around the building.

Tony was soaked to the skin and very disoriented. Gibbs had already called for another ambulance, but he wanted to get Tony around to the front so they could take care of him quickly.

"Where's...McGee, Boss?" Tony asked, his head lolling back against the building.

Gibbs knelt on one side, Ziva on the other.

"He's at the hospital, Tony," Gibbs said. "On three. One, two, three."

He and Ziva lifted. Tony went through the motions of helping them get him up, but wasn't really helping at all.

"What happened?" Tony asked.

"McQuivey found the building."

"McGee...okay?"

Gibbs looked at Ziva.

"No, he is not, Tony," Ziva said. "He was shot. He is alive but injured."

"Aimee?"

"She's scared, but unhurt."

"McGee wouldn't let her get hurt, you know," Tony said as they walked around the building.

"I know."

"It's raining," Tony said.

"Yes, it is."

"Didn't even see the guy coming."

"I'm sure that was his plan."

"Why do people always sneak up behind me and knock me out?"

"You're in the way."

"Yeah...well, that's my job, you know."

They got him to the car. Tony was definitely not all there yet. When the ambulance got there, they helped get him into it and he was taken to the hospital...injured but he would recover pretty quickly.

Gibbs and Ziva returned to Aimee.

"Tony is okay?" she asked as soon as she saw them.

"Yeah. He's going to have a headache for a while, but he'll be all right," Gibbs said.

"Good. Can I go to the hospital with you?"

"We won't be going there for a few more hours, Aimee. We have to clean up everything here."

"Oh. Can I go to the hospital?"

"Not tonight."

"But some time?"

"Yeah."

Aimee looked at Gibbs and Ziva...and then she got out of the car. She was still sniffling but she walked out onto the sidewalk and stood in the rain. Heedless of who was watching, she tipped her face upward and spread her arms wide. She didn't say a word. She just spun in a single slow circle.

Then, she walked over to Gibbs and hugged him. Gibbs hugged her back.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

They hated to do it, but Gibbs and Ziva knew they had to stick around at the safe house and wait for Ducky and Jimmy to get there to help clean up their mess. ...and a mess it was. Tony knocked out, Tim shot, Aimee traumatized yet again. Pretty much the only good thing about this was that McQuivey was dead. The body in the bedroom was a match to the sketch Aimee had made and the old driver's licenses from Canada. So they had their man. Ms. Needham had come and taken Aimee back to Social Services, with a police escort. It didn't seem likely that there was anyone else involved, but just to be safe. They'd be watching for a day or two.

Ducky and Jimmy quickly got McQuivey out of the way, and Gibbs and Ziva went over the scene. The place where Tim had been shot was marked with a large bloodstain. It was drying and darkening now. The wood of the bedframe, the sheets and the carpet on the floor were all stained. It was a disturbing site. They had no idea whether Tim had even survived the ride to the hospital.

"I am surprised he managed to stay conscious as long as he did," Ziva said.

"It was for Aimee," Gibbs said, looking at the floor. "I don't think he could have done it just for himself."

"No, I do not think so."

"I think we're done."

"Yes."

"Let's go."

"Gladly."

They left the safe house. The bedroom would have to be overhauled before they could use it again. People who needed safe houses generally needed to feel safe. A large bloodstain would _not_ foster that feeling.

That wouldn't be the concern of the MCRT. All they were concerned with were the members currently being treated at the hospital.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A light flashed in his eye and Tony jerked back.

"You know, I don't think that's going to tell you anything," he said. "The guy hit me on the _back_ of my head, not in the eye."

"Are you a doctor, Agent DiNozzo?"

"No."

"Do you have _any_ medical training?"

"No."

"Then, shut up and let me do my job."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"You're in a bad mood," he complained. "I thought you were supposed to be nice to your patients."

"You're not making it very easy," the nurse said, but she smiled.

Another light flashed in his eyes. Tony blinked a few times...and let himself think about the more serious problem...a problem much worse than lights in his eyes.

"Do you know if...if Tim McGee is okay?"

"Who?"

"Agent McGee. He was shot. Is he okay?"

The nurse stepped back with a sympathetic expression.

"I'm afraid that I don't know that, Agent DiNozzo. I've been helping you."

Tony had a blinding headache and stitches going across the back of his head. ...but it was worse not knowing whether or not Tim was okay.

"Could you find out? That would help me. A lot."

"You promise to stay here and not give anyone else any grief?" the nurse asked with a smile.

"Cross my heart...but I don't hope to die."

"Okay. Lay back and relax...and I'll find out."

Tony did lay back, but he wouldn't relax until he knew what had happened. Tim had been willing to give his life for Aimee...and he had to know whether or not that was what had happened.

He really hoped not.

Ziva and Abby came in a few minutes later. They didn't have any news, but having a distraction was good. Tony would take what he could get.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs was waiting, trying to be patient. Ziva had gone to visit Tony. They all were worried, but Tony was going to be okay, headache and concussion notwithstanding.

Ducky was trying to call Tim's parents to let them know what had happened. Gibbs wanted to be able to give good news, but so far, he hadn't heard anything, good _or_ bad.

Then, finally, the doors opened.

"Who's here for Agent McGee?"

Gibbs stood up. It was bad timing that he was the only one there...or maybe it was a good thing that Abby was fretting over Tony, getting rid of some of her worries by comforting the person she could.

"I'm Agent Gibbs."

There was that momentary pause when Gibbs' heart had time to clench with worry and then, the surgeon smiled tiredly.

"I'm Dr. Krone. I was operating on your agent. He's survived. Agent McGee is in Recovery right now, and we're keeping a close eye on him for the next few days. There was some damage to his spleen and we're not sure if that's going to heal on its own or get worse. We managed to stop the internal bleeding and he's had some significant blood transfusions. You've got a strong man there, Agent Gibbs. He's gone through a lot."

"Can I see him?"

"For a few minutes. Even if he wakes up, he'll hardly be coherent at this stage."

"He's going to make it?"

"I think so."

Gibbs smiled a little as they started walking to Recovery.

"That doesn't sound very confident."

"It's better than I would have said when we started. I was afraid that the bullet had taken out one of his kidneys. The spleen is bad enough, but you can live without your spleen. You need your kidneys, and damage to one can damage the entire renal system. So we're being very cautious with Agent McGee." Dr. Krone stopped. "He's right in here. If he does wake up while you're here, just make sure he stays calm. He'll likely be very groggy and not very engaged. That's normal. Once we're sure that there are no adverse effects from the anesthesia and that he's stabilizing, we'll move him into the ICU. We'll keep him there for a few days."

"Thank you," Gibbs said and stepped into Recovery. The room was exceptionally quiet, dimly lit. There were a few nurses and residents checking on the patients who had just come out of surgery. Gibbs saw Tim and walked over to him.

"McGee?"

No response. Tim looked...bad, but at least he was alive. While he had a cannula giving him supplementary oxygen, there was no ventilator. He was breathing on his own, albeit with assistance. Gibbs sat there for a few minutes and then, he was surprised to see Tim's eyes crack open slightly. They moved around and then fixed on him. Not much comprehension to be found in those small slits, but consciousness, no matter how brief, was a good thing.

"Hey, Tim. You made it. Congratulations."

Either Tim didn't understand him or he just didn't have the wherewithal to reply. Either was possible. His lips formed a word but it was so softly spoken that Gibbs couldn't understand him.

"What?"

That same shape to the lips. Gibbs bent over close to Tim's mouth.

"Aimee..."

Gibbs smiled as he sat up. "She's all right, Tim. She's going to be fine."

There was a slight quirk to the lips that could be interpreted as a smile...and then, Tim's eyes closed again.

A nurse came over to check on Tim and then quietly told Gibbs it was time for him to leave. He didn't want to, but he nodded and got to his feet. Tim wasn't talking yet anyway, and he'd found out what he needed to know. Tim had survived, and they thought he was going to be okay in time.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Aimee sat on her bed, Tim's teddy bear in her arms. She couldn't even think about sleeping. Ms. Needham had told her that she was safe now, that she should relax, but she couldn't. All she could think about was Tim bleeding on the floor. It was like seeing her parents all over again.

She started to cry, burying her face in the soft, worn fur of Grizzly Adams. She was trying to muffle her tears because there was no one here to comfort her. The other kids in the room were asleep and had been for hours. She wanted to be brave like Gibbs had said she was...but she didn't feel brave. She felt small, alone and scared. They had said she was safe now, but she didn't _feel _safe.

Shaking as she struggled to stay quiet, Amy cried and cried, leaving a spreading damp patch on Grizzly Adams' head. What if Tim died? What if someone tried to kill her again? What was she going to do now? Who would take care of her?

All the questions went round and round in her head, leaving her feeling lost, almost abandoned. Kids shouldn't have to be like this.

A gentle hand on her back made her jump and look to see who it was.

"Aimee, still awake?" Ms. Needham whispered.

Aimee sniffled and nodded.

"Okay. Come on out."

Aimee gladly followed her out of the bedroom and into one of the common spaces. Once she didn't have to worry about waking anyone else up, she cried audibly. Ms. Needham sat beside her and allowed Aimee to lean against her.

"This has been a hard day for you, hasn't it."

"Uh-huh," Aimee managed to answer. "I don't...want Tim to die! I don't want him to die!"

"I know. I don't, either."

"There was...so much blood on the floor. I didn't know what to do."

"I understand that you did a very good job, Aimee."

"But I couldn't...s-s-stop the blood."

"It's all right, Aimee."

"But Tim was so...I don't know..." Aimee couldn't find the words to explain what she felt. The words weren't in her head. All she knew was that she was overwhelmed by everything that had happened. Even though Ms. Needham was a bit forbidding, Aimee leaned against her now, hugging Tim's old teddy bear and letting herself be comforted somewhat by the presence of a calm adult. After a few minutes, Ms. Needham patted her on the shoulder and then turned her so that they were facing each other.

"Aimee...do you want to go to the hospital and wait to see how Tim is doing?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Go and get your clothes, get dressed and I'll take you over. Now, you might have to wait a long time. So if we do, you'll need to try to sleep. That's the deal. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Go on."

Aimee nodded and ran back into the bedroom. Quietly, she pulled out her suitcase and grabbed some clothes. Then, she went into the bathroom and set Grizzly Adams down on the edge of the bathtub while she got dressed. Then, she put her pajamas back in her suitcase and hurried out. She was still afraid, still worried, but now, she could find out that Tim was okay. That made her feel better.

"All right, Aimee. Let's go."

Aimee took Ms. Needham's hand and nearly dragged her out of the group home. She was afraid that Ms. Needham would change her mind if they waited at all.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Considering how short a time he'd been in with Tim, Gibbs was surprised to see the entire MCRT (including a still-dazed Tony), Abby, Ducky and Jimmy, all sitting together in the waiting room.

"DiNozzo, I thought you were still being evaluated," Gibbs said.

"I told them that I wouldn't leave the hospital. I'd just be waiting, and I wouldn't be alone either. So they let me come with Ziva and Abby." Tony's expression was mostly-attentive, but he was still clearly suffering from some of the effects of McQuivey's attack on him. "The nurse said that McGee survived the surgery."

Everyone's eyes were on him and Gibbs smiled, happy to be able to confirm.

"I just went back and saw him in Recovery. They're going to be keeping him in the ICU for a while, but he's alive. He woke up once while I was back there."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not really."

"Then, what _did_ he say?" Abby asked. "If he'd said nothing, then you would have said so!"

"He said Aimee's name. That's it."

"Not difficult to see what was on Timothy's mind then," Ducky said with a slight smile.

"He wasn't really awake."

"But he was awake enough to talk!" Abby protested.

"Abby, they kicked me out of Recovery. No one else is seeing McGee until they get him settled in the ICU."

Abby slumped down on her chair, looking dejected.

"It's just that I haven't seen Tim in days, and then, when I finally get a chance to...I can't! He's going to be okay?"

"His doctor thinks so."

"All right. I'll wait."

"So we can't sneak back there?" Tony asked.

"We probably could, but we won't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'd rather wait and have them focus on McGee instead of keeping us out here. How about you?"

Gibbs suppressed a smile as the more rebellious members of NCIS sagged at his reply. He knew what they were thinking. If _Gibbs_ was going to do what the doctors had said, the rest of them had no chance at all.

They settled down on the chairs and couches. Tony was forced to lay down on a couch. Abby insisted on being his pillow, and Tony had no problem agreeing to that. He was asleep rather quickly. Abby stroked his hair and then she leaned back and tried to sleep. Ziva sat down on another couch beside Ducky and Jimmy. Gibbs took a chair.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It was a couple of hours later that someone else came into the waiting room. Gibbs and Ducky roused, as did Ziva, but the rest of them stayed asleep.

"Agent Gibbs!"

"Aimee, quiet," Ms. Needham said quickly. "Everyone is asleep."

"Sorry," Aimee whispered.

"What are you doing here?" Gibbs asked.

"I wanted to see Tim."

"No one is seeing him right now," Gibbs said.

Aimee's face fell.

"But he's come through surgery all right."

Ms. Needham looked at Gibbs solemnly. "We're going to wait until it's okay to see Agent McGee. Aimee has promised to try and sleep while we wait."

"I will," Aimee promised.

Ziva and Ducky got up off the couch.

"Come over here," Ducky said. "You can lay down here, Aimee."

Aimee walked over to the couch and sat down. She looked at Ziva who smiled and sat down beside her. Much as Tony had done, Aimee lay her head in Ziva's lap and closed her eyes. Ziva rubbed Aimee's back gently until she fell asleep. It didn't take very long. Aimee was clearly exhausted.

"Why did you bring her here, Ms. Needham?" Gibbs asked in a low voice. "What if McGee had died? What then? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that she'd been crying for over an hour," Ms. Needham replied. "Aimee has faced a lot today. She was terrified of what happened, of what she saw...of what she had to _do_ in order to help Agent McGee survive. She needs to know that he did. That will do wonders for her, just knowing that someone she cared about didn't die. No matter what other problems there are, this one was the most pressing, and I made a decision. She's sleeping now. She hadn't slept a wink since leaving the safe house."

Gibbs looked at Aimee, sleeping on the couch. Ziva was dozing, leaning her head on one hand. What was going to happen here? This was more than a child's need to be safe. This was even more than dependence on the person who had saved her. There was a link that had been forged, a connection that had been solidified through two weeks of Tim trying to make sure that Aimee didn't have to think only about her fear. Tony and Ziva had told him how Tim was trying to help Aimee make other connections, and he had no doubt that Tim's efforts had been sincere.

...but sometimes, the best intentions didn't mean anything.

Gibbs was seeing now that the only way Tim could have stopped this was by being someone other than himself. He had been there in the beginning and Timothy McGee wouldn't abandon someone he knew needed help.

...not even if it meant the loss of his life.

Tim had survived the physical cost so far, but the emotional cost was still be determined...and the extent of it was dependent upon a nine-year-old girl.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Tim woke up...a bit surprised by the fact that he was waking up at all. He remembered how badly off he'd been, and a slight movement told him that he was far from recovered.

"So...no coma, then," he whispered. "Too bad."

Stabbing pain stopped him from trying to move again. Instead, he struggled to stay still enough that the pain stopped.

"Agent McGee?"

Tim swallowed the tears he wanted to shed and thought about looking over toward the door. Thinking about it was as far as he got toward actual movement.

"Yeah?"

"Welcome back. You're feeling some pain?"

"Yeah."

"All right. We'll take care of that now."

"Best...thing I've heard...all day," Tim whispered.

There was a soft chuckle and he felt some movement just out of his view. He didn't feel like he could even move his eyes. ...but that changed after a few minutes when the pain faded...and the fog in his brain increased, making it harder for him to think. Which was better? Foggy brain or agonizing pain?

"Better, Agent McGee?"

"Yeah." Foggy brain for the win.

"Good. I'm Dr. Krone."

Tim turned his head. "I saw you before once...didn't I?"

"Your eyes were open at one point while I was in the room, yes."

"I survived."

Dr. Krone smiled. "You sound almost as surprised as I was."

"But I'm going to make it?"

"I think so. We're keeping a close eye on you."

"What happened...besides that...I got shot?"

"The bullet did some internal damage. Your spleen was damaged, but there's a good chance it will heal given time. We're going to keep you here for several days while we check your progress. You lost a lot of blood which we have since replaced. All in all, it could have been worse...and you're doing about as well as we expected at this point. It'll take a while before you're back to normal."

Tim nodded, trying to keep the fog at bay long enough to understand what he was being told. He got that there was internal damage of some kind that made him hurt and would get better.

"You have a _lot_ of visitors waiting for you to wake up."

"My...family? Parents?"

"I've been told that they're on their way."

Tim nodded.

"Is...Aimee out there? ...um...a little girl?"

"Yes. She's been here for hours."

"Really? How long have...I been sleeping?"

"About twelve hours."

"Oh. Um...Tony? Is he...okay?"

"Who would that be?"

"Agent...DiNozzo. I..." Tim struggled to think. "...he was on the phone...stopped talking."

"Oh, the other NCIS agent. He's fine. He very likely has a headache and he did sustain a concussion, but from what I understand, they anticipate a full recovery."

Tim nodded but he wasn't sure he believed it. "Good. Can...I see...uh...Gibbs? He's here?"

"For a few minutes. You're not ready for long visits yet."

Tim could hardly disagree with that. When he relaxed, everything started to fade. It took way too much concentration to stay conscious.

"We'll let two people in at a time. Anyone else you'd like to see?"

Tim sighed. He couldn't think clearly enough to decide. Gibbs was the one who would tell him what was going on. Anyone else was a bonus.

"Sure. Whoever...but not Aimee. ...not now."

Dr. Krone smiled and withdrew.

Tim thought back. He was pretty sure he remembered that he had shot someone. He remembered Aimee...and he regretted how frightened she had been in his memory. He remembered Gibbs coming there...but how accurate everything was...he didn't remember that much. It was about as foggy as the rest of his brain at the moment. He needed Gibbs to clear that up for him. ...and verify that Tony was okay.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs got up. Everyone else fell silent. They'd all been awake for a few hours, just waiting.

"Yes?"

"Agent McGee is awake and he'd like to talk to you. One other person can come, but only one. I will say that he expressed some worry about Agent DiNozzo, and I think he'd appreciate verifying that he's all right. But it's your choice as to who else goes."

"How is he?" Ducky asked.

"Agent McGee is weak, and we have him on pain medication. Damage to the spleen is generally a very painful injury and takes a long time to recover, but he was fairly alert."

"Tony?" Gibbs said.

Tony got up. He was still feeling the knock on the head, but the sleep he'd gotten overnight had done wonders for him, and he only winced a little bit as he got to his feet.

"Coming, Boss."

Gibbs saw the disappointment on Aimee's face, but he got the sense that Dr. Krone had made the suggestion to avoid Aimee going back.

Tony walked silently. If Tim had been worried about Tony, it was nothing to the concern Tony had for him. Tony had awakened knowing that Tim and Aimee could both have been killed by McQuivey, _and_ he had spent some time not knowing what would come of Tim's injuries. This would be good for Tim, but it would be good for Tony, too.

When they got to the ICU, Gibbs heard Tony suck in his breath slightly. Tim was lying very still, and his eyes were closed. Gibbs figured what must have surprised Tony was how pale Tim seemed to be. Never very tan, the last couple of weeks stuck indoors, plus his recent injury had taken their toll and Tim looked little better than a ghost. Gibbs put his hand on Tony's shoulder and propelled him forward.

"Hey, McGee," Gibbs said softly.

Tim's eyes opened, and the strength of the painkillers was very obvious in the glazed look in his eyes.

"Boss...is Tony okay?"

"I'm right here, Probie," Tony said.

Tim's eyes gradually managed to shift away from Gibbs. When he saw Tony, he smiled with relief.

"You're okay?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Got a headache, and my stitches aren't in the optimal place for sympathy from the ladies, but I'll survive."

Gibbs got the distinct impression that Tim wasn't engaged enough to follow Tony's joke, but he did smile.

"I'm glad you're okay," Tim said.

"How are _you_ doing?"

Tim's smile widened.

"Flying high," he said, slowly.

"Ah, they gave you the good stuff?"

Tim nodded. "I'm not all here, but that's better than...how much I was...hurting before. Definitely better."

"Sorry I dropped the ball, Probie," Tony said. "He took me down way too easy."

Tim shook his head. "No. It's fine."

"Fine?"

The tired smile. "Okay...it's not fine...but it's okay. I'm glad that we all made it. Boss...did I get the right guy?"

Gibbs grinned. "You got McQuivey. He's not coming after Aimee anymore."

"She's safe?"

"So far as we can tell. We'll be watching, but the FBI hasn't heard any movements, and we haven't had any indication that McQuivey was working with anyone." Again, Tim's expression was far from comprehending. "We got him. It's over, McGee. You want to see Aimee?"

Tim's eyes went to the ceiling...and finally, he shook his head.

"Not right now...I can't...make her feel any better. It's taking all I've got just...to...talk to you now."

"She's been really worried about you, McGee."

Tim looked at Gibbs. "Do you really think that seeing me...like this...will help?"

Gibbs evaluated. There was no question that Aimee would see that Tim was seriously injured. It was ridiculous to think that she wouldn't notice how weak Tim was, his pallor...but she would also see that he was alive. Like Ms. Needham had, Gibbs weighed the two options. Leave Aimee to wait longer to see that Tim was alive or let her see him in this rather ragged state.

"Yes, McGee. I think it will help."

"Why?"

"Because she's been afraid that you didn't make it. She doesn't need you to protect her right now, Tim. She needs to know that _she_ managed to help _you_. Let her come in."

Tim looked at Gibbs.

"Okay...Boss. I'll trust you. ...but warn her."

"I will."

"I guess...I have to stay awake."

"Would be a good idea."

"Okay."

"Tony, stay here and keep him awake."

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs left Tony sitting awkwardly beside Tim and headed out to the waiting room.

"Aimee?"

Aimee leapt to her feet.

"Tim wants to see you. I can take you or Ms. Needham can."

Aimee looked back and forth between Gibbs and the social worker, trying to decide. She knew Ms. Needham better than she knew Gibbs...and he could see that she was needing the certainty of something, even just in the person she walked with.

"It doesn't matter who you choose, Aimee," Gibbs said.

"Ms. Needham," Aimee said in a small voice.

"Okay. Before you go back, I need to talk to you."

"Did I do something wrong?"

Gibbs smiled and sat down beside her.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I need to tell you what you're going to see when you go to see Tim. He's going to be in a bed. He won't be able to get up. He's still hurt, and they've given him some medicine that will make him a bit different."

"Different?"

"Yes. He's not going to be able to talk to you like he usually does. This is because of the medicine. He'll get better, but right now, he needs that and so you need to not be scared of how different he might seem. All right?"

"Okay."

"Are you ready?"

Aimee nodded and then reached out her hand to Ms. Needham.

"It's just down the hall and on the left," Gibbs said.

Ms. Needham nodded.

"All right, Aimee, let's go."

Gibbs watched them leave.

"Is this a good idea, Jethro?" Ducky asked.

"I think so. I think she needs to see that McGee really did survive."

"Will _we _get to see Tim anytime soon?" Abby asked plaintively.

"Eventually. Since he survived, you'll see him, Abby," Gibbs said.

"I know," Abby said, pouting a little.

"I do not like to wait either," Ziva said. "When his parents get here, they will get to go in first. I do not want to have to delay seeing him."

"We'll get there," Gibbs said.

"You've _already_ seen him," Abby said.

"And so will you. Just be patient."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim drifted off for the hundredth time, and Tony smiled. Tim was struggling to stay awake. It wasn't a sedative he'd been given, but it might as well have been.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if I can..stay awake...and coherent."

"You're not doing too bad so far."

Tim smiled a little. "You're a...not...demanding audience."

Tony laughed. "You're pretty entertaining right now, McGee."

"Thanks."

"Agent DiNozzo?"

Tony turned around. "Hey! Tim, your fans are here!"

"I'm not hot," Tim mumbled.

Tony grinned at Aimee who looked very uncertain about being there, and turned back to Tim.

"It's Aimee and Ms. Needham, McGee."

Tim's eyes opened and he looked toward the door. Tony was glad to see that he managed a smile.

"Hi, Aimee," Tim said.

Aimee smiled back, but she was clearly uncomfortable.

"Hi, Tim. How are you?"

"Good...enough. Thanks to you."

"Really?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. You saved me, Aimee."

"You don't look very good right now."

"I'm okay, Aimee. It's..." Tim lost his train of thought again, and started to drift away. Tony could see it, and Aimee wouldn't know what to do about that. He stepped in even though he should have left when they got there.

"Hey, McGee. Not very nice, falling asleep on your visitors."

Tim struggled to wake up again.

"Sorry. Can't...focus very well...right now."

"It's all right, Agent McGee," Ms. Needham said. "We understand."

"Aimee?"

Aimee came a little closer to the bed.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Really. Thank you."

"I didn't want you to die, Tim."

"I didn't."

"You're going to be okay?"

"Yes. It will...take some time, but I will be...fine. Eventually."

"Are you too hurt for me to hug you?"

Tim nodded. "Right now...yeah, I am. Later, though."

Aimee reached out and took Tim's limp hand and squeezed it tightly.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Tim," she whispered.

Tim lifted his other hand and clumsily patted her on the head. It was an awkward gesture, but Tony found himself really touched at the moment. These two people interacting in the only way they could at the moment...just a second of contact that wouldn't likely fit in any other situation. Here, it was the only possible way, and it was right.

Then, Ms. Needham urged Aimee out of the room, and Tony could see that Gibbs' idea had been right. Even though Tim wasn't in a good way at all, Aimee could see the potential for better and was comforted by what she saw.

After they were gone, Tim's head fell back against the pillow, and he was asleep almost instantly. Tony walked back to the bed and squeezed Tim's shoulder gently.

"Way to go, Probie."

Tim made a soft sound, but whether it was a sign of consciousness or not, Tony didn't know. Regardless, Tim was asleep, and he'd be all the better for the rest.

Tony withdrew. If Aimee was comforted by seeing Tim, even in this state, Tony also was relieved to see that Tim was starting recover.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Over the next few days, Tim did a lot of sleeping. His parents arrived and spent a lot of time with him, but they did let others visit as well. Ms. Needham took Aimee back to the group home and tried to get her back into a routine. She also got her seeing a child psychologist. By the time Tim's doctor was getting ready to release Tim from the hospital, Aimee was back at her school. Things were improving, but no one was fully healed yet.

Tim was released two weeks after he'd been injured, but he wasn't ready to be taking care of himself just yet. Dr. Krone had forbidden him to do any lifting at all for another couple of weeks. He'd be restricted to very light activity for up to three months. At the present, though, he wasn't in any condition to care about any restrictions. He had very little energy, and he was on some heavy-duty pain medication as his spleen healed.

Tim's parents were leery about leaving him alone in DC; so Ducky stepped in and offered his home as an alternative. Before Tim could even think of protesting, everything had been arranged, and he was going to be staying with Ducky until he was cleared for light activity.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Timothy, are you ready to leave?"

Tim smiled and nodded. "I think so, Ducky. You know...you don't have to do this. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, really? When you're not allowed to do any lifting or to exert yourself at all?"

"I can lift clothes out of my closet, Ducky."

"And when you take your medication that makes you so tired you almost fall over?"

"I'd be okay."

"Perhaps, but I think it more likely that you would forget the restrictions or even set them aside thinking you're all right and risk doing more damage. Your parents clearly thought the same."

Tim smiled. He didn't really have the energy to disagree. He hated that he couldn't, but he couldn't. It was too hard to fight when his energy levels were currently hovering just above zero and his ability to think was dependent upon whether or not he'd taken his meds.

"So...are you going to insist on attempting to care for yourself or accede to the inevitable and allow yourself to be cared for?"

Tim knew that he really didn't have an option here. He had to accept that he needed the help. He didn't say anything, but Ducky could obviously tell that he'd capitulated. He just picked up Tim's bag and smiled.

"I'm glad we agree."

"I guess so," Tim said. "I don't like having to..."

"Take the time to recover?"

"I guess."

"Or something else?"

Tim shrugged. "Let's just leave it at taking time to recover."

"Very well."

Tim got into the wheelchair and looked at Ducky.

"Oh, I've got some help. I don't want you carrying _anything_."

"Come on, Ducky," Tim protested. "I'm not lifting."

"No, but that would be pressure and you don't need that right now. So I called in the cavalry."

"Cavalry?" Tim asked.

"Hey, Probie!"

Tim smiled. "Hi, Tony."

"You must be feeling pretty bad if you're greeting me with a smile. All drugged up, are we?"

Tim laughed a little. "Yeah. Meds have kicked in. I'm happy."

"Good. Ducky can carry your stuff. I'll be your chauffeur."

"Home, James," Tim said.

Tony pushed the wheelchair, and Tim felt himself disconnect again. It was really easy to do at this point. He was in a state where, if he didn't focus, he drifted off into the fuzzy, cottony world of medication. He heard Tony and Ducky talking, but the words were meaningless. He only reconnected when he realized he was outside.

"Hey, McGee, I'm going to get the car. Sit tight."

"Right..."

Tony chuckled.

"You're pretty mellow. I think I like it."

"I'll remember that the next time I get shot."

"You do that."

Tim blinked a few times and then looked around.

"Sorry. This stuff...it's...strong."

"You're doing fine, Timothy. Don't worry."

"This is...not what I'd hoped."

"I'm sure it's not, but don't worry."

"Okay."

Tony pulled up with the car.

"You ready to get up, Probie?" he asked.

Tim nodded. "Slowly."

"Of course." Tony got out while Ducky put Tim's things in the back. He walked over to Tim and helped him get up and then get settled in the backseat.

"Thanks, Tony."

"Don't mention it."

The ride over to Ducky's house might have been noisy, but Tim didn't notice. What he noticed was that he'd never had such a smooth ride in a car before. It was over before he knew it had even begun, and that meant no bumps that would have cut through the pleasant fog of the pain meds.

Ducky and Tony helped guide Tim into the house and into the spare room. Tim laid down on the bed, feeling wiped out.

"Never thought...that walking down a hall could be so exhausting," he said.

"Oh, just wait, McGee," Tony said. "Gibbs will have you back to work in no time flat."

Tim smiled. "I wish."

Ducky smiled sympathetically. "Just relax for now, Timothy. It's not a requirement that you stay awake. Go to sleep. Get your strength back."

Tim nodded. He was genuinely exhausted just by walking from the car into Ducky's house. He supposed that this was to be expected, but he sure didn't like it. Still, sleep was calling to him more loudly than anything else; so he let his eyes close and stopped fighting his exhaustion. Sleep now and he'd be better later.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_One week later..._

Tim's energy levels remained extremely low, and it was clear that he had started hating how much the pain meds made him drowsy. Ducky had noticed that Tim seemed to be in more pain. He knew it would be violating Tim's privacy slightly, but he figured that he knew what Tim was doing, and it was best to overstep slightly at the beginning rather than wait until it became a serious problem.

He walked to the bathroom door and didn't knock. He just opened it.

Tim was leaning weakly over the sink, his face drawn with pain.

"Timothy, what's wrong?"

Tim straightened.

"Ducky! What are you doing?"

"I might ask you the same thing. You haven't taken your medication this morning. Have you."

Tim looked as though he was considering lying, but then shook his head.

"It makes me so tired, Ducky."

"You're not expected to be running around yet. You don't have the energy, and you're not healed enough anyway."

"But I can't..."

"Timothy, sit down," Ducky ordered.

Tim sank onto the toilet, the pain obvious on his face.

"You are doing yourself no favors by trying to deal with the pain in this manner. On the contrary, you are putting off your recovery and making it more likely for complications to develop. This ridiculous notion you seem to have that managing your pain is a sign of weakness must stop. Now before you do real damage to yourself."

Tim stared at the floor and didn't answer.

"Your doctor gave you specific instructions on how often to take your medication, and he also gave you a schedule for stopping. You will follow both to the letter. You will not hurt yourself by ignoring the pain."

Tim still didn't speak; so Ducky picked up the bottle of Tim's pills, shook out his dose, filled a glass with water and held them out.

"Take your medication, Timothy."

Tim meekly followed instructions without speaking.

"When you're ready, come into the living room. We need to talk."

Tim nodded but wouldn't meet Ducky's gaze.

"Timothy, I think I understand you, but I think we should talk about it. Take your time getting ready. I'm in no rush."

"Okay," Tim whispered.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Aimee, welcome back. How was school for you today?"

Aimee sat down on the chair and looked hesitantly up at Dr. Alice. She'd been talking to the doctor for a few weeks now, and she was pretty sure that Dr. Alice was okay.

"Okay. Still feels...weird."

"Why?"

"Because...there's...it's so...normal...but I'm not normal."

"Why not?"

"I don't have a family anymore...and..." Aimee shrugged. She had started realizing that admitting she wanted to stay with Tim was not good to do because, for some reason she didn't understand, it was wrong to want that; so she'd stopped even _asking_ about Tim, although she hadn't seen him since her second visit to the hospital. She didn't know how he was doing and that worried her...but there was nothing she could do about that.

"And what, Aimee?"

"Nothing."

"Aimee, do you remember what I told you at the beginning?"

"I can tell you anything and it's okay."

"That's right. You won't get in trouble for what you're feeling. What's wrong?"

"I miss Tim."

"The NCIS agent who was protecting you?"

She nodded. "...but I shouldn't."

"Why do you say that?"

"No one likes that Tim and I had fun, that we like each other. It's wrong. I don't know why, but every time Ms. Needham came to talk to me, she asked if Tim had done something that made me uncomfortable. ...and I don't think people liked me asking if he's okay. I like Tim. He...he saved me, and...and he cares about me...and I don't have anyone else! ...but it's wrong, and I don't know why."

Dr. Alice smiled. "It's not wrong for you to care about Tim. It's not wrong for you to like him. ...and it's definitely not wrong that you want to know how he's doing."

"Then, why does everyone seem to think that it's wrong?"

"It's because they didn't expect it, because it's not what people see very often. It's not because you're doing anything wrong."

"So...I could ask if Tim is all right?"

Dr. Alice smiled again and nodded. "Yes, you could. Would you like me to talk to Ms. Needham about it?"

Aimee nodded.

"Okay. I'll do that. Are you still having bad dreams at night?"

Aimee nodded. "The same ones...but other ones, too. I didn't like seeing the coffins at the funeral. It was...I didn't like that they were in there." She got teary. "I didn't want to see them in the...coffins. ...because they're never coming back. They can't get out...and I dream about that, too."

"You miss your parents."

"...and I saw them die. I saw that man shoot them...and...and..."

"And he tried to kill you, too."

"But he didn't get me."

Dr. Alice leaned forward. "Aimee, I want to ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest with me. Okay?"

Aimee nodded.

"Good. Now, what I'm going to ask doesn't mean that I can change anything. I just want to know how you feel."

"Okay."

"All right. If you could choose what you want to do, where you want to be...what would you choose?"

"You mean...right now?"

"Yes. Right now."

"...and I can't choose to have Mom and Dad back, can I."

"No. I wish I could help you with that, but it's not possible."

Aimee sniffled and nodded. She thought about it, but it didn't take much time. She knew what she wanted. She couldn't have her family back...so she knew what would be next best.

"Well?"

"I wish that Tim could get an apartment that Ms. Needham would like and that I could stay with him and go to school here and be here...with Tim."

Dr. Alice didn't act like she thought her wish was bad. She nodded.

"Why?"

"Because Tim cares about me...like my daddy did. He wants me to be happy. He saved me...and he knows a lot more than I do."

Dr. Alice smiled. "He's an adult. Of course, he does."

"No...he knows things like...like when he was making me do my homework. I don't like math that much, but he was telling me stuff about how a long time ago, people didn't know what a zero was and so the hardest question in the world would have been something like three minus three...because they didn't have a zero. But we have zeros now, and that means we can answer questions like that. They weren't stupid but they just didn't have a zero. He knows stuff like that and he said it makes what I'm doing more interesting." Aimee shrugged. "I still don't like math...but he told me about it like it's important...and so I tried to remember it."

Dr. Alice still didn't say anything about what Aimee said, whether or not it was wrong.

"What if you can't live with Tim?"

"Then...I guess I just want to have someone else who will take care of me, and like me. Tim already does. We moved here from somewhere else, and I don't really have any friends yet. We moved a lot because Daddy got moved around a lot. I don't have a lot of friends. I want to have friends and a family. That's all."

"That's all a lot of people want, Aimee. I'll talk to Ms. Needham about your wanting to know how Tim is doing."

"Thanks."

"Okay. Let's talk about what we're going to do to help you with your dreams."

"Okay." Aimee mustered up a smile and nodded.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Tim walked into the living room and sat down on the nearest chair. Ducky was waiting for him.

"Won't you be late for work?" Tim mumbled.

"Perhaps. I am rarely late. One day will not make a difference."

"Maybe it will."

Ducky smiled. "It won't. We need to talk about what's going on."

"No. We don't."

"Yes, we do."

"There's nothing to say. I admit it. You were right. I shouldn't have done that. I'll take my meds like I'm supposed to. What else is there to say?"

"We need to talk about the other pain you are trying to ignore."

Ducky saw Tim's jaw clench.

"No, we don't. It'll go away. We don't need to talk about it. I don't want to talk about it." Tim started to try to lever himself out of the chair.

Fortunately for Ducky, Tim was extremely slow at the moment. He was able to get over to Tim and gently push him back down to the chair. He didn't fight Ducky's touch, and Ducky sat in a chair near him.

"I've found that talking makes the pain less."

"Does it?"

"Yes. This is not what you wanted because of your connection to young Aimee Hanson."

"I never had any illusions of things working out the way I might have wanted. Ever. I know how they're thinking of me."

"How?"

"A single man who would like to take care of a young girl? Clearly, I'm a pedophile, Ducky. What other reason could I have for having interest in her?"

"Not everyone thinks that."

"But the people who make the choices do, and I know how the foster care system can work. I've seen the worst it can be."

"_You _were in–?"

Tim smiled humorlessly and shook his head. "No. My parents tried taking in kids, but what happened to the kids they took in was too hard for them to deal with. So they stopped doing it. A lot of things can go wrong. I know it's not necessarily guaranteed, but it's a possibility. I hate it...and I don't want to think about it."

"But you are, Timothy. Whether you want to or not, you are."

Tim cleared his throat and didn't speak.

"If you had your druthers."

"No, Ducky."

"Yes, Timothy. Just get it out now."

Tim wasn't in a state to raise his voice. It put too much of a strain on him. Instead, when he spoke, he just sounded weary.

"I want to be the one to take of her, okay? If I could, I would adopt her, but I can't. When I look at her, I remember the times that I took care of Sarah. It wasn't often. Mom and Dad didn't go out much, but I would sometimes...and when I did...I just wanted to keep her safe and happy. That's all." He sighed. "I tried to keep Aimee from having to think about what happened all the time. ...and I tried to make sure that she was leaning on others."

"Yes, both Anthony and Ziva told me about your efforts, and I have no doubt that they were sincere."

Tim smiled. "...but I wasn't paying attention to me. Everything people warned me about...I did wrong." He finally lifted his head. "I forgot to...to watch myself. I...I fell hard. But I know that nothing can happen. I just hope that she ends up all right...because I don't think that even my attempting to stay in contact would be looked at with any understanding. ...and I want to recover enough to go back to work...so I can get over it all. Aimee is safe. That's all I should care about."

"You can care about your own feelings as well, Timothy."

"Yeah. Well...I didn't think about them soon enough. Now, I just need to get past it...and I won't while I have so much time to think about it."

"Perhaps I'll suggest that Anthony inflict some of his expertise in movies on you."

Tim smiled. "I don't think I'd even mind that much. Right now, any distraction is a bonus when I'm awake."

"Timothy?"

"Yeah?"

Ducky got up again and walked over to Tim so he could look him in the eye.

"What you feel is not wrong. I know that the likelihood of being allowed to take Aimee in is not high, but the desire you feel is admirable...not something you should hide away."

"I shouldn't have let it get this far."

"Perhaps, but by the same token, you couldn't have done your job if you had confined yourself only to concerns about her physical safety. Aimee saw her parents killed before her eyes and was being hunted...and was nearly killed herself. Any of those things could have been damaging enough for a child who has no other family. Your efforts allowed her a space of calm to deal with those things in the first days after they occurred. They kept her from falling down into that pit of despair that could have consumed a young girl who felt alone. You saved her in more ways than one, Timothy. I'm sorry for the pain you have suffered as a result, but you did Aimee Hanson a great service. Don't forget that."

Tim's smile was a bit too rigid to be genuine.

"Drugs are kicking in, Ducky. I'm going to get back in bed."

Ducky allowed the moment to pass. Sometimes, it was better to address the pain in small bits rather than all at once.

"Not before you've eaten something for breakfast. Come. I will help you to the kitchen."

"I can eat when I wake up later."

"You could, but you won't. I'll make sure that you do it now."

Ducky held out his hand and helped Tim to his feet. It wasn't a token offering. Tim _needed_ the assistance.

"Sorry to be such a bump on a log, Ducky," Tim said.

"As long as you don't remain a bump on a log, Timothy, I can manage."

"Okay."

"What would you like for breakfast?"

"Whatever."

"I can manage that as well."

Tim smiled a little.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A case at NCIS kept Ducky from speaking to Tony about giving Tim some form of distraction while he recovered. They were so busy that Ducky had to put off his question, but finally, two days later, things had calmed enough that there was a lull, and Ducky headed up to the bullpen.

"Anthony, I'm glad to catch you."

"What's up, Ducky?" Tony asked. "I'm bored out of my skull up here. You'd think I'd had the plague again, not just a knock on the head."

Tony was only just back to regular duty, but Gibbs and Ziva had gone out to do some interviews, leaving him behind.

"Just a knock left you with a fairly severe concussion...but I had a request to make of you, if you'd be willing."

"What?"

"I'm afraid Timothy is in need of distraction. Seeing as you are the master of distraction, I thought you might be able to help him."

Tony grinned at the description.

"You know me." Then, his smiled slipped a bit. "Is this because of Aimee?"

"In part, yes. ...in _large_ part."

Tony shook his head. "Yeah. I was afraid of that. I don't think I can make it over there, today, but tomorrow, I will. Count on it."

"Thank you. Timothy will appreciate it, too."

"He may not when I get done with him."

Ducky chuckled. "I'll warn him for you."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Dr. Alice Schwendiman had been taking time to decide just how to proceed. Her analysis of Aimee Hanson had been unrushed because of the situation. Aimee had gone through a lot and what she'd told Alice had revealed how unsettled she felt. Her entire world had been uprooted, and she hadn't yet figured out what to do to make a new base. Her feelings were understandable, and actually, Alice was surprised that Aimee wasn't worse off considering she'd lost her parents and been under threat herself. From all she had said, it was Tim who had helped her maintain some measure of equilibrium with her situation. ...but now, he was gone, recovering from his nearly-fatal injury...and Aimee had no one else to lean on. She was shy, uncertain of herself. Years of moving around had kept her from really learning how to form close friendships. All in all, Aimee was a good candidate for being lost in the system.

She looked over her notes and made her decision as to what she'd recommend. Then, she called Social Services to set up an appointment to talk about Aimee's future.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Hey, McGee!" Tony called out as he came into Ducky's house.

There was no response. Ducky had warned him that Tim was still doing a _lot_ of sleeping; so Tony headed to the spare room. He knocked softly, but Tim still didn't answer.

"Tim?"

Tony opened the door. Tim was asleep. He wondered whether or not he should wake him up, but from what Ducky had said, Tim wouldn't mind being awake.

"Hey, McGee," Tony said. "You're supposed to be waiting with baited breath for my arrival!"

Tim's eyes fluttered open and then closed again.

...and then, reopened.

"Tony...what time is it?"

"About six."

"P.M.?"

Tony laughed. "Yeah. P.M."

Tim sighed and pushed himself upright, wincing slightly.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Ducky said you needed a distraction, but I wasn't sure if you'd rather be sleeping."

"I'm sleeping like twenty hours a day right now, Tony," Tim said. "I don't need to be sleeping."

Tony grinned. Tim sounded irritated, which was understandable.

"Well, I brought a movie. You think you can stay awake for it?"

"I can try. What did you bring? ...not a comedy, I hope."

Tony laughed. "No. No comedy. Well, there might be a few jokes, but that's not what it's labeled as."

"What is it?"

"_Magnum, P.I._, season 1."

"That's not a movie."

"Nope. It's better. It's eighteen hours worth of Tom Selleck action!"

"I won't last through eighteen hours, Tony. I may not last through _one_."

"Great! I'll have lots of time to convert you to Hawaiian shirts and the moustache of Tom Selleck."

Tim smiled. "Okay. I'll watch an episode."

Tony grinned, knowing that Tim didn't have the energy to insist on anything else. The nice thing about this particular series is that it didn't necessarily take a lot of focus to keep up, and since it was only an hour long, Tim could watch it and see the whole thing.

He helped Tim get up and walk out of the room. He got him settled in a chair, facing the TV. He put in the first DVD and started it going. Tim's eyes remained open through the episode although he didn't always seem engaged. As the closing credits rolled, Tim stirred and became more alert.

"Tony?"

"You ready for another episode?"

Tim smiled and shook his head. "Not yet."

"What is it?"

"I think I remember you saying something to me."

"I've talked to you a lot, Probie."

"No...on the phone. Before I got shot. You said something about...needing to...tell me about something you'd done. You said...I'd be mad at you, but you were trying to help. What were you talking about?"

"Nothing really."

"Yes, you were. You were serious...if I'm not remembering it wrong. Am I?"

"No. You're not."

"So...what were you talking about?"

"I...uh...I went and talked to Ms. Needham at Social Services."

"About what?"

"About you being able to take Aimee in."

"What?"

For about the first time, Tim was totally alert.

"I told her that she should think about you as Aimee's...guardian or whatever."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't."

"So...why would you do that?" Tim repeated.

Tony looked at Tim.

"Because I watched you and Aimee while we were at the safehouse. Man, McGee...you were like...like a dad to her. The way you treated her. The way you acted around her. I mean it. You can try to pretend, but you were taking care of her in a way that I could only wish that my dad had."

"Tony..."

"It might not make any difference, Tim, but...but you love her, and she loves you, too. I think you deserve the chance. ...and I couldn't just let it not happen because you wouldn't dare even suggest it, no matter how much you might want it."

Tim was silent. He seemed shocked.

"Tim?"

"You really think that?"

"Think what?"

"That I did a good job with her?"

"Duh! McGee, Ziva and I both liked watching you give her homework, help her with things. It was like getting the chance to see what real fathers are supposed to do with their kids."

"It can't happen."

"Well, not right now, but..."

"No. I can't even...let myself _hope_ that it might happen, Tony. ...and all I can think about is seeing how afraid she was when I had to ask for her help. If there had been _any_ way that I could have avoided doing that to Aimee, putting her through that...I would have. I just thought it would have been worse for her to see me dead."

"It would have been. You didn't do anything wrong by trying to stay alive. Are you seriously thinking that you messed up back there?"

"Didn't I?"

"No! You got the bad guy, saved the little girl...and managed to live through it. I'd say you did it all right."

"I didn't know where to look for him. I started to call for backup, but..."

Tony shook his head. "No, McGee. You can't think of it that way. You're way too smart for that. You did a good job. Man, I thought you had to be dead when I first started waking up. When he hit me, my last thought was that you and Aimee would die. Stupid of me, but I did. ...and you didn't. You lived. Aimee didn't even get a scratch."

Tim dropped his face toward the floor.

"I just wanted her to be okay."

"She is."

Tim nodded without looking up.

"Do you wish it was raining right now, McGee?"

There was a soft chuckle.

"Maybe."

"If you need a character reference..."

"I won't call you," Tim said and looked at Tony with a sad smile.

"I was going to say the same thing. You ready for another episode? Ducky told me I had to make sure you ate something; so I can force feed you and we can see the second half of the pilot!"

"Okay. I need to take my next dose."

"I'll get it."

"Thanks."

There was just a little bit more than gratitude in that brief word.

"Tim, I'm glad you made it."

"Me, too."

Tony got up and headed out of the room.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Tony turned around and just grinned. "You know me. I'm too nosy for my own good."

"Definitely."

"Don't start the episode without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Tony walked to the kitchen and found the food Ducky had set aside. Tim wasn't eating a whole lot, but they had to make sure he wasn't skimping on the essentials. All the time he spent sleeping was the biggest impediment to his diet.

As he got the food ready, Tony hoped that Tim would take the time he needed to get over his disappointment, because he didn't really think anything positive was going to come of his attempted intervention.

Tim needed to be able to move on.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Over the next couple of weeks, Tim's coworkers made an effort to spend time with him when they could. Tony forced Tim to watch the entire first season of _Magnum, P.I._ and then got Tim to admit that he'd actually kind of enjoyed the show...meaning that Tony left Tim with the next three seasons. Abby started bringing some little things for Tim to do on a laptop. Nothing time-sensitive, just enough to engage Tim's mind when he felt able. Ziva cooked for Tim (and Ducky, who enjoyed the company as well) and they talked covertly about their mutual interest in fantasy novels...when no one else was around.

After about a month and a half, Tim got clearance to spend part of his day at NCIS, but with strict orders that he not do anything requiring more than very _very_ light physical activity...such as walking from his desk to the men's room.

It wasn't much, but it was better than he'd had, and Tim seemed to be less depressed when he had something to fill his time. Ducky would occasionally talk with him and get him to talk about Aimee, but generally, they let him keep those feelings to himself, but it was still a bit of a drag on him, and everyone noticed it. It wasn't as though Tim was some black abyss of despair, but in spite of his best efforts to deny his private wishes, he couldn't ignore the fact that he felt as though he'd lost part of his family in not being able to see Aimee anymore. Ms. Needham had called him to ask how he was doing, but she hadn't mentioned anything more than that Aimee seemed to be settling down after her traumatic experience.

So...things were getting back to normal...whether Tim wanted them to or not.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Two weeks later..._

"McGee?"

"The search isn't done yet, Boss," Tim said without looking up. "I should be getting some results in about ten minutes."

"How are you doing?"

Tim stopped typing. If _Gibbs_ was asking him that question, he hadn't been doing as well as he had thought at hiding his continued...malaise.

"I'm fine, Boss."

"No, you're not."

"Okay. I'm not."

A chuckle finally got Tim to lift his head and meet Gibbs' gaze. Gibbs looked entirely too understanding.

"Come on. Let's talk. You've been working too much today anyway."

"It's barely past lunch, Boss!" Tim said.

"Come on, McGee."

Tim could see that there was no fighting Gibbs' order. Slowly, he got to his feet, still feeling a bit of pain as he moved his torso...which was why he was only allowed to work part of a normal day. He walked with Gibbs to the elevator...and out of NCIS, to Tim's surprise.

"Where are we going, Boss?"

"Out. You're done for the day."

"I could work longer, Boss."

"Nope. You're done."

"Okay."

Gibbs walked with Tim at a very slow pace to Gibbs' car. Gibbs drove him to a local diner, a place he probably normally would walk to, but Tim wasn't able. Gibbs led Tim to a booth and then got them both a coffee.

"McGee?"

"I'm doing all right, Boss."

"No, McGee. You're dealing with what you have to deal with, but you're not all right."

"Everyone seems to know. What's the point in talking about it? I've talked to Ducky some, to Tony some...but they're letting me avoid it."

"Well, they shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's still bugging you."

"That'll change."

Gibbs smiled. "Maybe it doesn't have to."

Tim furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"First, you tell me something. Do you still feel like you screwed up?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I let Aimee get attached to me. I let myself get attached to her. I didn't act like an agent. I acted like...I didn't do it right. I got shot...and I had to traumatize Aimee even more to help me. There are a lot of ways I screwed up, Boss."

"No, there aren't."

"Why do you say that?" Tim asked with a slight chuckle.

"You got a little girl to do something almost impossible. She stayed calm and did what was needed. You protected her...not only physically, but emotionally. You gave her an anchor when she'd lost everything. That doesn't sound like screwing up."

"Sure feels like it."

"Well, it's not. So stop thinking that it is."

"Sure, Boss. I'll get right on that," Tim said sarcastically.

The subsequent headslap was fairly gentle, all things considered.

"There's something else."

"What? I've been taking my medication exactly like I'm supposed to."

"No. Not that."

"Then, what, Boss?"

"I got a call this morning. From Social Services."

Tim felt his heart sink. "Has something happened to Aimee? Did she run away again? Did they lose her?"

Gibbs' smile was knowing. "No. They didn't. Ms. Needham needed to talk to me."

"About what? The case is over."

"About _her_ case...about what would be the best situation for Aimee."

Tim's heart now clenched tight...hardly daring to ask more. It didn't seem possible, and the mere idea of it was enough to tie Tim's insides in knots.

"Why you?" he asked slowly.

"Character reference. For you."

"M-Me? What are you talking about?" Tim asked.

"Seems that Aimee's therapist thought that you would be the best fit as Aimee's guardian, at least for now...as a kind of trial run. She recommended you to Ms. Needham based on what she thought would be best for Aimee...and Ms. Needham had apparently already had a recommendation of sorts from Tony."

"You'd better not be kidding, Boss," Tim said.

"I'm not."

"And what did _you_ say?"

"I said that I'd worked with you for nine years...and I couldn't think of a better man."

"But...I'm not...recovered yet. I don't live in an appropriate situation."

"Both of which Ms. Needham already mentioned."

"And?"

"And, barring any problems in your background check, you can spend your recovery time going through the required training and fixing your living space."

Tim felt so shocked that he didn't feel like he could even speak. His mouth opened but no words came out.

"It's going to be a lot of paperwork for you, and you'll have to have inspections of your home, and written reference letters."

"Are you serious?" Tim asked. "This is...real?"

"Yes."

"But...I didn't...it's..."

"I know. You told yourself that it wasn't going to happen...and it almost didn't, but Ms. Needham can agree with the therapist, and she herself was impressed with what you did for Aimee at the safe house."

"She was?"

"Grudgingly, but yes."

Tim chanced a smile. "Is this... How much chance is there that this will change?"

"Don't know."

"I...I...I don't know what to say."

"Well, agreeing to it or not might be a good idea. Ms. Needham gave me permission to tell you in advance since this isn't going along the usual channels anyway."

"Boss?" Tim asked.

"What?"

"Do you think this is a mistake? Do you think that...my wanting this...and it actually happening is a good idea?"

"Why are you asking me?" Gibbs asked with a grin.

"You're here?"

"I don't think it's a mistake. I think you'll find it won't be easy, but if you really mean what you've said before, I don't think it's a mistake."

"If she's anything like Sarah, I know it won't be easy," Tim said, relaxing enough to smile for real.

"Good."

Tim sat leaned back against the bench, just trying to get his mind around the fact that he could have what he'd been trying _not_ to want. His life had just changed so dramatically that he found he was having a hard time accepting that it was real. This kind of thing wasn't usual. His experience with foster care was _not_ having things go right.

"Is this what Aimee wants?" he asked finally. "Ms. Needham said she'd started to get back into a routine."

"Don't ask me," Gibbs said, shaking his head.

"What now?"

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"Now, I give you a ride to Social Services and you start the ball rolling. ...and ask your questions to someone who can answer them."

"Okay," Tim said, feeling almost dazed.

"Come on, McGee."

"To Social Services?"

"Yep."

"Aimee will be in school."

"That's right, and apparently, they haven't told her yet because they didn't want to promise anything until they were sure you were still interested."

"I'm interested," Tim said, although he knew that was far from an accurate description of how he felt.

"I know. Let's go."

Tim let Gibbs lead him out of the diner, to his car, and then over to Social Services. He wasn't sure what he'd say or do, but Gibbs seemed to realize how surprised he still was feeling and did the talking when they first came in.

"Agent Gibbs and Timothy McGee to see Ms. Needham."

"Have a seat. She'll be right out."

The words meant very little as Tim went over and over all the ways that things could go wrong...or right. What if they changed their minds? He wasn't sure his heart could take it.

"Timothy McGee?"

Tim looked up and then stood up at Gibbs' urging.

"Go on, McGee."

Tim walked slowly into Ms. Needham's office and sat down.

"Hello, Agent McGee. It's nice to see you recovering."

"Thanks. I have to say that I didn't expect to be here."

"I don't blame you. You seem to be very much like your friend described you."

"Tony?"

"Yes."

"How was that?"

"He said that you'd never suggest yourself because you didn't think it was possible...not because it wasn't something you wanted."

"Sometimes, he actually notices things," Tim said with a smile.

"Well, since you're here, and based on what you've said, you _are_ interested in taking Aimee Hanson in."

"Very much so," Tim said softly.

"Good. There are a number things you'll have to do first...not least of which is getting a home with at least two bedrooms."

"Of course. I've thought about moving before...but while it was just me, there didn't seem to be a point."

"Aimee will be in need of therapy, probably for at least a year, if not longer. She's doing fairly well, but that will be something that needs to continue. Since the school year is almost over, we thought it would be best for her to finish out there before making any changes in her school."

"I'm still staying with a friend while I'm recovering so...I probably can't take her in for a few more weeks."

"Yes, we're aware of that, but once we get the ball rolling, that won't make much difference. Because of the situation, we're going to be treading carefully. I hope you understand."

Tim nodded. The bias against someone in his position was understandable even if he chafed a little under the injustice of being lumped in with the criminal element of society.

"Good. Since it's Friday, Aimee should be back soon from school. You can tell her the news yourself."

"Ms. Needham?"

"Yes?"

"Is this still something _she_ wants? I mean...I'm ecstatic at the prospect, but...you said she was settling in."

"Yes...to something she didn't think she could change. I've found that Aimee isn't very forthcoming, even when it's something she really wants. Kind of like you, actually."

Tim laughed a little.

"Her therapist asked her what she wanted and she said she wanted to stay with you, to have you be her caregiver. She wants some kind of a family, and you have offered her that. So...yes, this is still what she wants."

"Okay."

"Good. Let's get started on the paperwork. That should keep you plenty occupied until Aimee gets back."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Aimee got out of the van and looked at the building. She wasn't happy about being here, but since it seemed to be what was going to be normal for a while, she sighed and headed inside. She wanted to run back to Tim's place, but he had made her promise that she wouldn't run away...and even if the situation was different, Aimee didn't want to break her promise. When she came inside, she saw Agent Gibbs sitting by himself on a couch.

"What you doing here?" she asked.

"Waiting. Why don't you go on back."

The smile on his face was somehow comforting, even if Aimee didn't understand it. She hitched her backpack higher on her back and walked to Ms. Needham's office. She didn't usually come here. Usually, she went right to the group home after school, but the school had told her about the change in plans.

"Ms. Needham?" she called out as she neared the doorway.

"Come in, Aimee. I have some things to talk to you about."

Aimee walked to the door and stopped.

There was Tim, sitting on a chair, smiling at her. He looked very pale, not like himself, but _so_ much better than when she'd seen him in the hospital.

"Tim!" she said, smiling back at him. "Are you better?"

"Getting there. How are you, Aimee?"

"I'm okay. My teacher didn't believe me when I told her people didn't know what a zero was a long time ago."

"I'll tell her myself," Tim said. "I didn't make that up."

"You'll tell her? Really?"

"Yep. Aimee...how would you like to come and live with me?"

"Really?" Aimee whispered.

"Really. If you want."

"But I didn't think I could."

"I didn't either, but you can, if you want to."

"Forever?"

"Yeah."

Aimee looked at Ms. Needham. "Really?"

"Yes, Aimee," Ms. Needham said witha smile. "Really."

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I give you a hug now?"

Tim laughed. "Yes, you can...but not a hard one. I'm still getting better."

"Okay." Aimee ran over to her and, remembering where he'd been hurt, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could. Tim hugged her back. She could feel that he wasn't as strong as he'd been before. His arms trembled a bit, but if he was still getting better, that was okay.

"I love you, Tim!" Aimee said.

Tim just held her, but Aimee could tell what he didn't say. Like her dad who had never been very talkative, Tim could say what he felt without talking.

...and Aimee felt safe.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Tim felt like an animal jumping through a number of hoops as he went through the steps to become a foster parent. It was only knowing that he _could_ be a foster parent that kept him going. He'd called his parents and told them what was going to happen. They were cautiously excited, knowing as they did how bad things could be, but they promised to come and meet Aimee when she officially moved in.

When Tim wasn't jumping through hoops, he was looking for a new home. His apartment had been all he'd needed, all he'd really wanted for a long time, but the possibility of finding something more made him consider more options. Instead of renting, he decided to buy, and he also decided to look at town homes. He also looked around at the school districts, knowing that Aimee would need to have a good school to attend. The school she'd been at was okay, but Tim was sure there were better opportunities. So he asked for input.

As he did all the work, he didn't notice the scrutiny he was getting. The others noticed that his lethargy had mostly vanished. He was still definitely not up to par, but his interest in getting things ready had given him an energy that he hadn't had for weeks. It was like the prospect of taking Aimee in had invigorated him and sped up his healing.

Everyone was excited for Tim and were anxious to help him prepare. Abby helped him search for a new place. Tony was the first one to suggest that Tim look beyond Silver Spring. ...and then, a suggestion came from an unexpected source.

Vance, when he realized what was going on with the members of his MCRT, took it upon himself to mention one thing that had been momentarily overlooked: Where would Aimee stay when Tim was still at work and she was done with school?

It caused a little consternation for Tim. He'd thought about it at one point but it hadn't really sunk in. While he was still recovering, his schedule was so limited that it didn't matter, but at some point, he'd recover and resume his normal duties...which would take a lot more time.

...but Vance hadn't brought it up without having a suggested solution. He had talked with Jackie and she had agreed that it might work to have Aimee hang out with them while Tim was working. Gibbs also agreed to give Tim some extra leeway in his schedule so that he could make sure Aimee got off to school without issue. That suggestion was greeted with enthusiasm on Tim's part, and it goaded him to take Tony's suggestion to look outside of Silver Spring. He ended up finding a lovely town house in a residential neighborhood in Alexandria, not very far from the Vances. It had a small yard, was near a wooded area, and in a good school district. Everyone pitched in to help him move, and he discovered how little furniture he had...which led to finally buying a couch and a few other things.

By the time Tim was recovered enough to have Aimee move in, he was fairly certain that everything he could do, he had done. He assumed that there would be the unexpected as time went on, but that was the nature of the beast. All in all, he was prepared.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim opened the door.

"Okay, Aimee. Here we are."

Aimee followed Tim into the house, looking around in surprise.

"It's...a lot different from your other place," she said.

"Yeah. It's a lot bigger. There are even stairs."

Aimee smiled...and then looked happy to see Tim's bookshelves.

"You kept your old stuff!"

"Of course. I had to buy some new things, but I kept what I had."

"Wow."

"What do you think?" Tim asked, feeling a bit awkward now that the moment had finally come.

Aimee put her suitcase on the floor and started walking around. Instead of pressing her for an answer, Tim just followed behind her as she went into the kitchen, examined the front room and then went into the room Tim had set up as an office...for his typewriter and record player. Then, she went upstairs and looked at all the rooms up there. Then, she came back down.

"Did you get this place just for me?" she asked.

"Well, the number of bedrooms, definitely. You need your own space."

"It's so nice."

Tim chuckled. "Don't worry. It'll get messy soon enough. I haven't really lived here much myself yet."

"You won't mind?"

"Of course not! Once Jethro and you and me are living here full time, it'll get a bit messy, I think...and that's fine. What do you think of it? Do you like it?"

Aimee nodded.

"Which room is mine?"

"Upstairs."

"Show me," Aimee said and held out her hand.

Tim took her hand and led her to the room he'd set up as hers. It wasn't right next to the master bedroom, but it was close enough that he'd hear her if she had a nightmare.

"Wow," she said again. "It's so nice in here."

"If you want to change things around, it'll be fine."

Aimee took a breath and set her suitcase on the floor. Tim understood her feelings. He sat on the bed and patted it. She walked over and sat down beside him.

"How are you feeling about this, Aimee?"

"I'm kind of scared."

"Of what?"

"That I'm going to do something wrong and this will all go away."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I'm kind of scared of that, too."

"You are? What could you do wrong?"

"I don't know, but I'm still worried about it. I think if we both just do our best...we'll be okay. Are you ready for that?"

Aimee nodded. Tim smiled and hugged her briefly.

"Good. Me, too. Now, we need to do something to break this house in. I think we'll have to have pizza tonight. You okay with that?"

Aimee finally grinned, relaxing.

"Yes!"

"Good. Let's go and figure out what we're going to get."

The two of them went downstairs, and Tim let Jethro inside. Then, they playfully argued about what should go on the pizza, and in the end decided to get one pizza with half Tim's choice and half Aimee's.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

After they'd had a couple of weeks to get used to each other, Tim invited his friends from NCIS over for a housewarming party. Then, the next week, he invited his family to come and meet Aimee. It was a short visit, but Tim got his parents' approval, albeit with some cautions about how things could go wrong.

Things didn't go perfectly, of course. Aimee continued to have nightmares and she did have to get used to Tim's different ways of doing things. They had disagreements over homework, playing, and once or twice, Aimee suddenly became afraid that Tim was going to give up. It took a lot of convincing to help her believe that Tim was in this for the long haul. He didn't intend on sending her back unless she really didn't want to stay.

Gradually, over the course of the next few months, they reached a kind of...dynamic equilibrium where Aimee settled in to the task of growing up. Tim and Aimee became very close. He never told her to call him 'Dad' because she'd already had one. She called him 'Tim' and that was good enough.

After she'd been with Tim for about a year, no one would have guessed that they weren't father and daughter. In fact, it was a shock when they found out that Tim was merely Aimee's foster parent.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The rainstorm started up without much warning. It was similar to the storm that had brought Tim and Aimee into each other's paths. Aimee still had shown some degree of being unsettled by the rain and thunder, and Tim had been trying to help her get over it. On this particular day, the power flickered and then went out.

Aimee looked at Tim with fear. He smiled at her.

"Aimee...let's go outside."

"But it's raining!"

"I know. Let's go outside."

He put out his hand and Aimee let him take her out into the warm summer rain. Jethro came out with them and started frolicking in the puddles. Tim looked at Aimee and put out his hands to catch the raindrops.

"You told me that you used to like being in the rain," Tim said. "You want to show me?"

Aimee nodded, but only hesitantly. She put out her arms and tilted her face up into the rain. Then, to Tim's surprise, she started to sing.

"I'm laughing at clouds, so dark up above.  
>The sun's in my heart and I'm ready for love.<br>Let the stormy clouds chase everyone from the place.  
>Come on with the rain; I've a smile on my face.<br>I walk down the lane, with a happy refrain.  
>I'm singing and dancing in the rain."<p>

Tim laughed. Aimee stopped singing and looked at him.

"Did you like it?" she asked.

"I love it."

Aimee giggled and then took Tim's hands and started pulling him around in a circle. After that, they ran around on the sidewalk, jumping in the puddles, laughing together. Then, finally, Tim took a breath and looked at her once more.

"Aimee?"

"What, Tim? I did my homework already."

Tim laughed. "I know. I want to ask you a question."

"What?"

"How would you feel if...I adopted you?"

"Really?" Aimee asked. "You want to?"

"Yes. I do...but I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes."

"But I want to! I thought _you_ didn't. That means that...that we can be a real family!"

"That's right."

Aimee squealed with excitement and hugged Tim just as tightly as she had that first day...only this time it was from happiness, not fear. Tim hugged her back and then knelt down in front of her. He had tears in his eyes, running down his cheeks, but the rain washed them away.

"Tim...are you crying?"

"Yes, but it's because I'm happy."

"Me, too! Me, too, Tim!"

Aimee hugged him again and Tim hugged her back.

"I love you, Aimee."

"I love you, Tim!"

After a few more minutes, the power came on and they went back inside. Tim made Aimee get in the shower to warm up and he did the same in his own shower. Then, they dried off Jethro and spent the evening together, first making dinner and then watching _Singing in the Rain_. Aimee fell asleep halfway through the movie.

Tim looked at her as he turned off the TV and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead.

"I love you, Aimee," he whispered.

FINIS!


End file.
